Maniac Cop: Unfinished Business
by Dr Facer
Summary: When the drug lord behind the corrupt politicians who caused his death is released after decades, undead police officer Matt Cordell returns to complete his revenge. Can detective Sean McKinney and rookie cop Daniel Sullivan stop Cordell's deadly rampage before innocent lives are lost or will Cordell and his new partner prevail in their quest to deliver bloody justice?


Maniac Cop and all concepts related to the films and characters were created by Larry Cohen.

Maniac Cop

Unfinished Business

By

Dr Facer

0-0-0

 _The junkyard was located in what used to be a large parking lot in the early eighties; it still had the heavy iron gates and brick walls surrounding it, keeping safe row after row of vehicles, but now, a decade later, the cars kept here were discarded or bought for scrap instead of being the property of middle class working men. There was also a depository here where auto parts were stored located next to the main office, and it was there where Kevin Ebiri stood, waiting for the owner of the place to return from the shack he and his workers used to work and do all the paperwork. It was late, almost midnight, and the place had closed hours ago, but that didn't matter to Kevin; he had come here to sell several stolen car parts he'd procured, thanks to the fact the owner of this business had no qualms about buying stolen goods if they were good._

 _Icy gusts of wind ran through the lot from time to time, and Kevin warmed his hands with his breath for a third time. Behind him, in a truck, waited Harry and William, who often helped him in his carjacking ventures in exchange for some easy money; they were getting restless, and even if he tried not to show it, Kevin was getting anxious too._

" _We should go to the office, man," William called. "That old man is taking too long coming back with our money."_

" _You're right," Kevin agreed. "Let's go see."_

 _Complaining about the cold, Harry and William got off the truck and followed. The three carjackers reached the office fast enough, and found the door wasn't locked. That was strange, they had seen Ezra, the owner, enter the place and he always locked the door. Kevin called the owner's name but got no response. Puzzled, he motioned his friends to wait by the door while he went to Ezra's private to see if he had fallen asleep or something. When he entered the man's cubicle, a strange smell he had detected from the door intensified. He looked behind the desk and backed away in fear. There was Ezra, or what was left of him. Someone had stabbed him brutally, butchering the mechanic with no hint of mercy. Under the bright bulb's light, Ezra's blood shone sinisterly, expanding around the corpse like spilled oil._

 _A noise and Kevin turned to the left just in time to see a massive cop walk out of the closet documents were kept in. The officer held a large blade in his right hand and pointed it at him. The police cap and the overhead lights prevented the car thief from seeing the face of the killer, but Kevin decided he did not need to. He ran out of the private and then the office, almost crashing on his two friends who had walked to Ezra's private and were about to walk in._

" _Run, idiots, run!" he shouted as he bolted out of the office, but Harry and William didn't follow the advice. Kevin's warning only served to confuse them._

" _I think Ezra pulled the old shotgun gun on Kevin," Harry opined. "To hell with our money, we better go. The old man's probably really pissed off about something."_

" _Yeah, we better," William agreed._

 _The private's door swung open then and William, who was closer, was stabbed on the side of the neck by the tallest cop Harry had ever seen. The blade cut well, and the policeman had to just move his arm left to decapitate Will, whose head dropped and bounced under a table while his body fell, blood gushing out of the open neck. Harry, eyes wide open in terror, tried to run for the door but never made it, two gunshots were heard and he collapsed. The maniac with a badge had shot him in the back, killing the criminal on the spot._

 _Kevin did not think about the truck's keys until he reached the vehicle, and cursed under his breath when he remembered Harry still had them! He then heard gunfire and ducked. There was no way in hell he'd return to the office to look for the keys, not with that crazy cop in there. He peeked from behind the truck and felt his knees buckled when he saw the grim officer was already walking towards him. Panic surging in him, Kevin rushed for the rows of used cars, thinking he could lose the policeman between them and perhaps make it to the wall, climb it and from there to the street where he could escape the demented policeman._

 _He ran through the narrow corridors formed by the old vehicles, reached an old bus and made a fast turn to hide behind it, only to get an elbow straight to the face. He fell on his back, hands over his bruised nose and looked up expecting to see the tall bastard who had killed Ezra but no; in front of him stood a lady cop. No doubt this was a woman; her curves were evident even in the loose uniform. The junkyard's lights were behind her so he couldn't see her face and her cap kept her hair in place but he was sure, it was policewoman._

 _Fearing the tall one was near, the criminal tried to stand up but she didn't give him a chance and stepped on his chest the moment she understood he was trying to escape. The man grunted in pain and started to struggle, grabbing at her leg and trying to get free but it was useless, this woman was as strong as a bull! He noticed then she was very cold, colder than a block of ice and for some strange reason this caused a bubble of fear to swell inside his stomach. Something was very wrong with this cop._

 _His fear escalated when she unholstered her gun and pointed it at him._

" _Hey, calm down officer!" the thief begged, "You can arrest me, I'm… "_

 _The criminal couldn't finish his sentence, a loud Blam! cut his words short. The woman had shot him in the head, killing him on the spot._

 _Wasting no time on the dead man, she started walking towards the exit. Once there, the tall policeman opened the gates for her and she followed him to a patrol car parked near the junkyard's entrance._

0-0-0

 _Twenty years later…_

Detective Sean McKinney stared at the cigarette between his fingers. He had dropped the habit years ago but always carried a pack of the little bastards with him as a reminder of his victory against the cancer sticks. He hadn't lighted up in more than a decade, never felt the need after he quit, not even when his son was born seventeen years before but today he really wanted a smoke; in fact, his whole body demanded he filled his lungs with nicotine. He had already torn the pack open and was out in the balcony. He had even borrowed a lighter.

He reasoned he deserved this. It was his last week on the force after all, and smoking one, just one, would not hurt. After all the crap he'd been through one last cigarette on his final days as an active member of New York's finest seemed like nothing. And so he lighted up and inhaled, only to cough desperately, toss the little fucker to the floor and step on it. Did these pieces of shit always taste so bad? Impossible, real tobacco should be better than this garbage they tried to pass as cigarettes these days. He reached for the pack and stared at it. Didn't look too different from what they use to back in the day, true, but it was worse somehow. This proved to be a good thing, as he didn't feel the slight hint of remorse when he tossed it to the trashcan when he returned to his office.

He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and picked up an old and very thick ring binder. It was full of paper clippings, documents, pictures and memos; his hobby, as he always would say to those who inquired. In truth, every single thing inside the binder related to one person: Matthew Cordell. While everybody believed Cordell had been dead for decades, to the point new cops had only heard he'd been a tough as nails motherfucker, if they had heard about him at all, McKinney remained one of the very few left who knew the truth: Cordell lived, if what Cordell had could be considered life, that is.

And McKinney knew because he was, after all, the leading expert when it came to the Maniac Cop, as he had faced the undead policeman twice. Though ' _faced_ ' was not an accurate word to describe their encounters. If anyone asked, Sean would say he had _survived_ Matt Cordell twice, and he was glad he never had to try his luck a third time. Sean reached for his glasses, put them on and opened the binder. The first few sheets were newspaper cut outs detailing the time when Cordell had been framed and sent to Sing Sing by the mayor and other authorities, something that happened because Matt, despite his murderous nature, had been an excellent cop, cunning and perseverant. That much Sean was willing to admit; in fact, Cordell had been quite close to expose the putrid corruption running rampant on City Hall, and had paid highest the price for sticking his nose where he shouldn't have, getting murdered in prison by a gang of vengeful criminals. Too bad for those criminals, and the crooked authorities who wronged him, that Cordell turned out to be far more vengeful than they ever could be.

Because Cordell had returned from the grave, stronger, almost invulnerable and full of rage he unleashed on everyone who got in his way. As an undead, a term McKinney had picked while he researched, Matt had been pretty much unstoppable. The first time he came back, Matt killed the authorities who sent him to Sing Sing: Mayor J. Killium, Commissioner Pike and Police Captain Ripley. He was somehow stopped by two good cops, Jack Forrest and Theresa Mallory.

But Cordell was back only weeks after that. He killed Jack and Theresa, sneaked into Sing Sing in order to slaughter the criminals who murdered him and even forced the city to admit they had screwed him. Matt's rampage came to an end when a truck blew up on his face that time, Sean knew, he had been there. With his name cleared Cordell was finally buried with honors as a hero who fought political corruption. It really seemed that was the end of it.

Only it wasn't. Not even a day after his burial, Matt Cordell reappeared. This time thanks to a voodoo ritual performed by some priest who wanted to use Cordell to finish off the gangs in his neighborhood but Matt didn't do as the priest wanted. He instead got interested in the incrimination of police officer Kate Sullivan and started butchering all who posed a threat to her. Cordell didn't stop killing that time until he'd cleaned her name. McKinney tapped his fingers on Kate's picture, cut out from a newspaper and preserved in his binder. She had been a good person, and like a little sister to him; seeing her framed and crucified by the media and his superiors had been though. He'd even felt thankful when Cordell gave him the meanings to clear her name, but his gratitude ended the moment he discovered Matt had done so as a way of courting Kate's spirit, a wedding gift, if you will.

"Crazy motherfucker," Sean muttered, recalling how Kate's corpse ended up ablaze. Matt's loneliness had obviously driven him mad with grief until he was convinced Kate and he were alike and that she would join him. And Matt Cordell had been furious when the ritual that would revive Kate was interrupted. McKinney still shivered as he recalled how his nemesis, burning like a torch, chased him through the highway in a beat up police car, hell bent on killing him for disturbing the ceremony meant to bring Kate back as another undead, bound forever to him.

The chase had ended when Sean blew up Cordell's car, and that should have been the end of it, but for years he had seen and heard things that…

"Sean?"

McKinney closed the binder and looked up, finding his wife, Susan, standing there and looking at him disapprovingly. "Hi, Susy, what brings you to the office?"

"You really need to throw that away," she said pointing at the binder. "I don't want to see it at home when you retire, ok?"

"I will, promise," Sean said, and meant it. He was planning on shredding or burning the whole thing anyway.

"I came to bring you what you asked for," Susan placed a small box on his desk. "I hope that's all you give that Sullivan kid."

He noticed she was eyeing his binder.

"Only the box," Sean said and placed his hand on the binder for emphasis. "This goes to the paper shredder in a day or two."

"Good," she said, circling the desk and bending down to kiss him. "It'll be nice having you home every day."

"After Hawaii," Sean winked. "Remember we'll go there to celebrate my retirement."

"I can't wait."

"I bet you can't," he agreed, kissing her.

0-0-0

Daniel Sullivan was a tall and rough-looking blonde man who had defied his father's wishes in order to become a cop. He was not a rookie with three years already under his belt, but he was new in this precinct. He had managed to get transferred here after a year of constantly requesting for it and he only did that when he heard detective Sean McKinney was retiring. It was imperative for Daniel to talk to him. After months of getting nothing but refusals from the senior officer, Daniel decided working in the same station was his only chance of ever speaking with the elusive veteran who was once both his Aunt Kate's mentor and best friend.

And so, after finishing his paperwork, he at last had some free time to look for McKinney and talk to him. It wasn't hard to find his office, and he found him at the door talking to a still attractive woman in her mid-fifties. He walked past them and stopped at the water dispenser, killing time until he saw the woman leave. Once Sean returned to his office, Daniel approached.

"Detective McKinney," he called, offering a smile to the older officer when he turned to greet him.

"I don't know you, do I?" Sean said. "I'm a little busy right now, kid. Last week and everything so if it isn't urgent, please ask someone else."

"I'm Daniel Sullivan, Kate's nephew. We've spoken on the phone," the young cop said. "I got transferred to this precinct today."

"Just when I'm leaving it, nice timing, rookie," McKinney said.

"Detective…"

"I remember our phone conversations," Sean interrupted and returned to his desk. "Sit down, Daniel. I'm not sure what you want to know but since you're here, let's have that talk you've been pestering me about. What do you want?"

"To hear about my aunt's death," Daniel requested. "She was accused of using excessive force during the shooting where she was mortally wounded, but the charges were dropped and the case closed with no official resolution after she died. I want to know why."

"Just as I imagined, you want to talk about _that_. Well, all I can say is that she was a good woman, a great cop and that those charges were dropped because they were crap to begin with," Sean made a short pause. "And that it's ancient history. It happened twenty years ago. Let it go."

"My aunt Kate is the reason I'm a cop today, detective McKinney," the young officer stated. "I loved hearing her talk about her job when I was a kid. I think I deserve to know why she was wrongfully accused before she died."

"Perhaps," Sean conceded. "But deserving to know does not mean you _should_ know."

"And why not?" he asked. "Is it related to her having a closed casket when we buried her?"

"No, it is because you're not going to believe the story if I tell it to you," McKinney said standing up with his thick binder under his left arm and the box Susan had brought him in his right. "She's dead, let her rest in peace."

"Why was she even accused of police brutality?" Daniel insisted, following McKinney out of the office. "I'm sure you know! Why don't you want to tell me about it?"

Sean stopped, turned and got real close to the young officer. "Too much shit. Just be happy to know those false charges were dropped and the case closed, even if the stupid media never really admitted it."

"But…"

"That's all I'm saying about this, kid," McKinney then recalled what he carried and handed the young cop the box. "Here, this used to be Kate's; I think she would've liked you to have it."

Taking advantage of the surprise the box had caused Daniel the old detective slipped back to his office and locked the door.

"You chose the wrong thing to ask and the wrong way to ask it," a woman said behind Daniel, she introduced herself when he turned to look at her. "Martha Dulany, how do you do?"

Martha was a lean black woman in uniform, pushing fifty if Daniel had to guess but she looked younger. She held the hand Daniel offered and shook it, smiling.

"You know detective McKinney?" he asked.

"Of course I do," she said. "He may be retiring in five days but he is the best detective in this station, regardless of his ghost hunting hobby. Don't let anyone ever tell you different."

"Ghost hunting?"

"Long story, kid," Martha smiled. "But one that's not important. I overhead you asked him about Kate Sullivan, why?"

"She was my aunt, she's the reason I'm a cop," Daniel said, repeating what he told McKinney just a few minutes earlier.

"Well, we were partners for a while back in our rookie days," she revealed. "She was a good friend, too. If you want to know something about her, I'm your best bet after McKinney."

"You wouldn't mind talking to me?"

"Why should I?" Martha smiled again. "I've got some time now, if you're free we can go for some coffee and we'll talk, that good for you?"

Daniel nodded.

0-0-0

"So, you want to know about Kate's death," Martha spoke behind her steamy cappuccino and stared at the man in front of her. "Like Sean said, it is ancient history. Why do you care about something that happened when you were still playing with your G.I. Joes?"

"I guess I can't believe she would ever be accused of excessive violence, she was always so kind…" Daniel said.

"Do you think your aunt was guilty?"

"Of course not!" the young cop felt insulted at the notion. "I simply want to know why they accused her of something like that!"

"The reporters who released the video that caused all the trouble wanted money," Martha said, "They edited the thing to make her look bad because it would sell for a lot more, this I heard from McKinney, and I know it's true."

"That much I imagined," Daniel agreed.

"But… what was shown on TV did stick to her," the woman made a pause. "And there is a reason for that."

"Are you telling me my aunt…?"

"We didn't call her ' _Maniac_ ' Kate just for laughs, kid. She liked guns; she even had this big knife at home… she called it a what? Oh yeah, a _Kukri_! Nice blade I must admit, a little curved and very exotic. I wonder what happened to it…" Martha made a second pause to drink from her cup. "I did love Kate. I really did… but she never minded it much when it came to roughing up criminals. Not that those bastards didn't deserve it. I remember this time she almost got suspended for breaking a rapist's jaw."

"That… that is hard to believe," Daniel said and to his credit, he didn't refute the woman's claims. "She was always so nice when she visited."

"She was nice to everybody who was not a violent, criminal scumbag."

"But…" he made a pause, then, "what else can you tell me?"

"I remember she liked to use hollow-point bullets," Martha recalled. "I remember she killed at least thirty criminals in self-defense and how she crippled a few drug dealers who resisted arrest. But… what are we supposed to do when one of the bad guys pulls out a cop killer gun? Throw flowers at the bastard and hope he likes the smell?"

Daniel said nothing. He came from a nice and peaceful district with low crime rates, unlike this one where crime was pretty much the preferred way of life and thus had never considered facing things as bad as those described by Martha Dulany.

"And she was about to capture a gang of carjackers she had been following for several months, too," Martha remembered. "But it doesn't matter now, that band of thieves was found dead shortly after anyway."

"I see…" the young man finished his coffee and lowered his head. "So that is why it was so easy for those police brutality charges to stick to her."

"Hey, she liked to rough up the trash, so what? She didn't do wrong when the press crucified her," Martha said. "Besides, the case was closed when she died because nobody would sue the city over the whole mess. In a way her name's clean."

"I guess it is," Daniel said in a low voice, unsure of how to feel about what he had just learned, unsure about believing everything Martha had told him.

"This happened way before your time, and things were different back then. Now we can't even sneeze near the scum we arrest for fear someone will record it and pass it as abuse on the stupid internet," Martha lamented when she noticed the young cop was lost in thought. "Hey, kid, I told you what you wanted to know but don't let that ruin the memory of your aunt. Kate was a good friend and a damned fine cop… but she's been dead for twenty years. I have to agree with McKinney here, just let it rest. Let _her_ rest."

0-0-0

The stone and brick building used to be a church nearly forty years ago and had been abandoned for the last twenty five. A gang led by a voodoo priest used to hide there for a while, but after their leader was shot and incinerated they decided the place was too full of bad vibes to stay in so they left. Since then, this former church remained deserted; untouched as the city kept growing and forgot about it, as a city often does with old constructions it has no use for. But the old church is a remarkably solid structure, and time had done little to damage it, not even the benches inside are ruined by time. Whatever little damage in the edifice was the result of a fire from two decades in the past but other than some scorching on the inner walls the temple was good shelter if you were homeless and in need of a place to take refuge during a rainy night.

And that night rain was falling mercilessly over New York.

This presented a problem for Tom and Rob; you see, both of these men were going through hard times, a not so uncommon problem for chronic alcoholics like them who were also addicted to every illegal substance on the street. They weren't always like that, of course, but now they resorted to mugging people to get the money needed to feed their vice. Problem was, rain meant hardly anybody was out and they were not happy about getting wet either. They'd been walking under the rain for a while now, their only consolation a bottle of Mexican Tonaya mezcal which yes, was cheap and tasted like dog's urine, but it was inexpensive, it kept them warm and neither Tom and Rob would complain about the flavor; after all, getting a gallon of tequila for less than 5 bucks was a great deal to people like them. If they could get some crack and a place to stay for the night they would be in heaven.

That is when they spotted the church. Boarded windows and chained door did little to deter the pair from finding a way in and when lightning crossed the sky followed by loud thunder, they hurried to one of the windows, sliding under it into the abandoned edifice. They found several old candles behind the altar, they lit them and soon were sitting in a bench sharing their third rate tequila while the storm raged outside. All in all they were content listening to music on their small portable radio and after discarding their damp jackets they even forgot they'd gotten wet. That was when they heard the heavy steps above them.

"Seems we've comp'ny," Tom said looking up.

"Fo' sure…" Rob agreed.

"Mebbe theys have moneis," Tom opined.

"Yeah… Mebee…"

"Gots ma blade're," Tom stood up and shook his head to clear it a little. "Gonna see. Git da moneis if there're sum…"

"Got mine'ere. Oi gots ya back," Rob said, also standing up.

The stairwell was located behind the altar and knife in hand both tugs started climbing the dimly lit passage. The stairs led to a corridor with two doors on each side; they could not determine where the other people in the church were but full of tequila-induced courage they decided to split, with Rob checking the two rooms to the left and Tom the ones to the right. The rooms closer to the staircase were offices, each with an old desk, its correspondent chairs and bookshelves full of moldy books, but no people. The two junkies met again in the corridor and decided to enter the next room at the end of the hall together.

They found it was an actual bedroom with a night table and other pieces of furniture, but what made them freeze in place and sober up in fear was the woman on the bed: a lady cop, uniform spotless blue and black, white gloves covering her hands and badge shining on her breast. But the woman's face was obscured by shadows and what little Tom and Rob could see let them know she was probably disfigured or horribly scarred.

"S'copper!" Rob muttered, scared at the sight and more unnerved by the apparent state of the woman than her possible profession. "Gotta bail, man!"

"Chill, bro," Tom said, walking to the bed with slow steps. He grimaced a bit when he was next to her and looked, but then reasoned nobody with a face that messed up could be alive. He turned and then, "She ain't tickin' see? Prob's not a badge…"

That was when Tom howled in pain, feeling how something had pierced him from the back. He looked down and saw a curved blade protruding from his stomach. The cop had risen and stood behind him. She proceeded to grab him by the shoulder and pull her long knife out of his guts, splattering his blood all over the room as she did so. Tom, screaming, reached down to his open torso and tried to walk, but the dark figure still had a hold on him and with unnatural strength tossed him through the window to the concrete floor two stories below.

Rob was too scared to scream and only reacted when the woman turned to look at him. Not wanting to suffer the same fate as his friend, he ran for the stairs and made it to the window he had entered the church through and tried sliding under it. Half his body was out when someone pulled him back in. Rob was spun around and ended up face to face with a tall, broad shouldered cop. He screamed at the sight of the horrible and scarred visage of the policeman and that was his last conscious action. The imposing figure grabbed him by the neck and broke it like a twig. That done the giant of a man tossed Rob's corpse out through the window.

"Matt…" the voice was raspy, cold and unnatural but decidedly a woman's, the female cop who had already descended from upstairs. She stood by the altar and motioned at the radio.

The other nodded and got close to her, finally paying attention to what was being broadcast. It was a debate show and they were talking about something which made the large figure lean forward a little bit as he focused on what was being said.

" _I don't care if it's been twenty five years. Luis Sandoval should stay in jail!_ " One of the men on the radio argued. " _He was the biggest drug supplier in New York and had every politician in Mayor Killium's administration inside his back pocket, he does not deserve freedom!_ "

" _The man is pushing sixty and his empire is long gone,_ " a second voice disputed. " _He has no political connections now and no chance of recovering the kind of influence he once had. He's harmless._ "

" _I still think Sandoval represents…_ "

The transmission was cut short. The large cop had grabbed the tiny radio and crushed it in his right hand. His eyes gleamed with fury. The last one of the men who orchestrated his murder was alive! And not only was he alive, he was free! They had told him Luis Sandoval was dead. They lied! That drug lord lived still, which meant his revenge was not complete!

Matt Cordell turned to look at his companion and motioned her to follow him with a nod. She returned the gesture and did as he requested. Justice had been foiled, and it was their job to make things right, and god help anyone who tried to stop them.

0-0-0

Daniel Sullivan arrived home and went straight to take a hot shower. He was cold and wet because of the rain and needed to warm up. A few minutes later, wearing a sweater and black pants, he sat on his couch and started examining the box McKinney gave him that morning. He hadn't opened it and had no idea what it contained. He entertained the idea it was her aunt's gun, but the box was too small and felt too light to have a pistol inside. He opened the box only to find a white handkerchief and a few pictures of his aunt inside. Picking the pictures up, he noticed there was something under them: a ring.

Daniel examined the silver ornament and smiled. This was his aunt's police graduation ring. He read the words engraved on it and felt glad he had gotten it, a great memento of his dear aunt. He then started looking at the pictures, disappointed that most of them were starting to discolor due to age, but at the same time glad the images were still visible enough. A majority of the photographs showed Kate in uniform but a few had been taken during a party, her birthday. He smiled as he looked at them but his expression changed when he reached one photo of her aunt holding a rectangular, open box. She seemed very happy with the gift, which seemed to be some sort of pink, no, _red_ , stick. The next photo showed her, still smiling as she held a long knife with a curved blade. The red stick had actually been a wooden sheath.

"That thing must be twenty inches long at least," Daniel calculated as he looked at the blade his aunt held. He then noticed a smiling black woman holding a beer in the corner of the picture and he realized he was looking at a young Martha Dulany. "That's how she knew about the knife."

He looked at the last picture and his smile returned. It was a photo of his aunt taking a bite of her cake. He put the photos back in the box and remembered the last day he had seen her. It had been his birthday, and even when she said she couldn't go to the party, she visited later that night. Aunt Kate had brought his favorite pizza and they had eaten it with his parents in the kitchen. The young cop leaned back on the couch and tried to reconcile that happy memory of his childhood with the idea of his aunt liking ' _roughing up_ ' criminals as Martha had said.

"I just can't believe my aunt Kate killed over thirty people," he muttered, staring again at her shiny, silver graduation ring. "I just can't."

Daniel ran a tired hand over his face and took in a deep breath. Perhaps McKinney and Dulany were right and he should just let this whole thing rest but… was it so bad he wanted to learn why his aunt had been like that?

To understand why they said she was a ' _Maniac_ ' Cop?

0-0-0

Luis Sandoval looked at this reflection in the mirror and smiled. His hair was no longer the shiny jet-black of old, but he felt white hair also suited him well, his face wasn't yet a labyrinth of wrinkles and besides, his thick mustache was as manly as ever. The man was tall and broad shouldered and still in great shape for his age, all of this helped his new black suit make him look a few years younger. He checked his red tie, standing out from the white of his shirt and grinned pleased at his overall appearance. He still had it, he decided, and couldn't wait to start doing business again. He was only fifty-seven after all, and he calculated he could handle things personally for at least another ten years before retiring like he deserved.

"Your car is here, señor Sandoval," a man called from the door of the elegant suite he had occupied for the night.

"Thank you, my boy. I'll be down shortly."

Luis stepped out and found his nephew, Javier Sandoval, waiting for him. He had three men behind him. Not bad, men like them needed constant protection.

"Are you sure you want to meet the four barons?" Javier, who was tall and obese, asked. "Maybe you should let me talk to them first, just to make sure they like the idea of you coming back."

"Coming back?" Luis stopped and stared hard at his nephew. "I never left! I've been running this whole operation from jail for decades! Why do you think our business survived?"

"All I'm saying is that you need to take it easy, uncle."

"Do you think I spend my time sitting on my hands, carechimba?" Luis laughed. "I already know who the barons are and who works where! I know who's old and who's new!"

"Sorry, I forget you are always prepared."

"Something you should do yourself, cansón! You and my brother did fine in my absence but fine doesn't cut it! I really need to let our buyers know the big rooster is back in the henhouse!"

0-0-0

Pier 10 was old but well maintained, and the ten cars parked outside the warehouse owned by Sandoval let the drug lord know that all of the distributors he had invited the night before were there. That made him feel good, he enjoyed knowing he still commanded respect, because for him respect was everything. He glanced at his nephew while he parked their Ford and rubbed his forehead in disappointment. His nephew was an idiot. He had let a bunch of Cubans in the organization, as well as many Mexicans. Sandoval believed in the unity of race in his organization, and would start bringing in Colombians again as soon as possible. No need to have Mexicans and Cubans inside the operation.

The warehouse was large, with several rails on the ceiling from where large boxes hung on chains and hooks. There was an office on the other end, but one had to climb a set of stairs and go around a set of catwalks to reach it. Near the entrance of the building waited the four drug barons; the four criminals were not alone, of course, as they all had come with several armed men for extra protection, they could never be too careful in situations like these.

"I don't like it," Mario Gonzalez said in a low voice so only the other two in his group would hear. Mario was the top dog in the Mexican gangs. "Luis Sandoval is a racist piece of shit."

"But his group controls almost all the flow of coke," Fred Baker, a tall African American in an elegant gray suit and also the main man in Harlem and Brooklyn stated. "We need him more than he needs us."

"Is what we discussed still a go?" Jinhai Lang, Chinese and leader of the dealers working the Asian neighborhoods asked.

"I'm still in," Fred said. "This is a big chance."

"I'm in too," Mario promised while glancing at Salvatore, leader of the Italian mafia, who had chosen to remain separate from the group. "You think Salvatore is still friends with Sandoval?"

"I thought their friendship was a rumor; but I guess we'll know soon," Fred said, looking at the warehouse's door. "Heads up, ladies, our man is in the house."

Luis Sandoval entered the warehouse and greeted each of the barons by name and with a firm handshake, which impressed them all but Don Salvatore, who at sixty was already familiar with Luis's methods and personality.

"I am glad all of you are here," Luis started. "It is good to know who the men who buy and distribute my product are. I trust my brother and nephew treated you well during my… vacation."

"We've made money with them," Mario said. "I expect that to continue."

"Same here," Jinhai rejoined.

"We basically only care that our business relationship remains the same as it is now," Fred finished. "However…"

"I'm listening," Luis nodded.

"In your absence, other suppliers have… appeared," Jinhai said.

"Their prices are very competitive," Mario added.

"If we are to continue doing business with you, Mister Sandoval," Fred made a short pause, "We expect to get better prices and an exclusive deal. You will only sell to us."

"That's something we can negotiate," Luis said without missing a beat. "Would you like to have dinner at my house… say next Friday? We can discuss this there."

The three younger barons exchanged glances and nods and then Fred smiled. "You have a deal. We'll be at your house next Friday."

"Dinner is at ten," the Colombian grinned. "Bring whatever you want; mi casa es su casa."

"Perfect. See you then, señor Sandoval," Mario said, shook hands with Luis and walked out of the warehouse. Jinhai and Fred followed his example and also left.

"Children today have no respect," Salvatore opined once the three young barons were gone.

"I agree with you completely," Luis then hugged the Italian mobster and shook hands with him effusively. "It's been a long time, Salvatore, old friend. You look good."

"Same to you, Luis," the Italian smiled. "I'm glad you are back in charge; since your brother's death I haven't talked with anyone who knows what common sense is."

Sandoval nodded. "Thank you for taking care of his killer, Salvatore."

The Italian gave his friend's shoulder a squeeze. "It was nothing."

"We'll have to do something with those three kids," Luis said after a moment of silence, his thoughts once again focused on business. "They don't know who they're fucking with."

"Like I said, children today have no respect, Luis," Salvatore repeated. "They don't know to stay quiet when adults are talking; they think they can force us do what they want… no respect."

"True, my friend," Sandoval agreed. "Quite true…"

0-0-0

Despite being only a few days away from retirement, Sean McKinney had insisted in coming here the minute he heard where the two bodies had been found. He got off his car and looked at the building. Yes, the same church. The veteran felt a chill go up and down his spine as he approached the construction, consciously avoiding the main door. He reached the place where the first body was and approached one of the forensics guys already there. He looked behind him to confirm no press was around and then crouched to better look at the body.

"Broken neck?" McKinney guessed as he stood back up, ignoring the slight creaking on his knees and back. This used to be _easier_.

"Yes, we still need to determine if he has other wounds," the younger officer said. "This one's in better shape than the other, though."

"Where is the other victim?"

The forensic pointed to the right. "On the side of the building, detective; I hope you still have a strong stomach."

"Don't worry about that," Sean said.

He walked slower than he had to, really not looking forward to what he was about to see; a growing suspicion was setting in his gut and once he reached the small corridor between the church and the stone wall surrounding it were the body was, McKinney felt on edge. The body was not covered yet, and two guys from forensics were still working on it. Sean had to thank the rain for washing away most of the blood, as he didn't feel he could have stomached watching the disemboweled corpse in its full gory glory. He again felt that this used to be easier.

"This one was dead before hitting the floor," one of the men said as McKinney got near. "He was cut open quite nicely before someone tossed him out the building."

"I think not. He probably died when he smashed his skull on the ground," the other disputed.

"Doesn't matter, he's dead anyway," McKinney said, looking up at the window from where the man had fallen. "Do we have men in there already?"

"Yes, I think two of our guys are inside."

"I'll go take a look."

McKinney entered the church. He was surprised at how dark the nave was thanks to how little light filtered through the ajar doors and the boarded windows in the east and west transepts, even if the planks in one of said windows were now nothing but splinters on the ground. The feeling of dread in his gut intensified as he reached the spot where he remembered Kate Sullivan had burned. Being here again was giving him all kinds of bad memories, and he didn't really need this so close to retirement. He climbed the stairs and followed the sound of voices to one of the rooms.

"Sean, I didn't think you'd come," Josh Hammond, another veteran detective, said. "Our friend below was stabbed here, and then someone decided to see if they knew how to fly."

"The problem I have with this is that it seems the window was closed," another forensic informed. "If that's the case the killer threw the victim with enough force to break through the planks like if they were nothing… I've never seen something like that. Can you imagine how strong a man needs to be for that?"

"I can. Trust me, I can," McKinney said as he examined the room settling on the splattered blood near the old bed. "This is where they stabbed that poor bastard."

"Yes, right before tossing him like yesterday's garbage," Josh nodded. "Both men were probably dirty to begin with, McKinney. I think they came in looking for shelter and saw something they shouldn't have."

"And I believe you," Sean agreed. "I'll be downstairs, there's something I need to look at."

Back downstairs, McKinney started searching the church for something, anything that would help him confirm or deny Cordell's involvement on these killings. He found the remains of what he identified as an old, battery operated and portable radio. The pieces of the gadget were not dust covered so it'd been destroyed recently. Probably crushed when Cordell listened to something he did not like? Or maybe someone tossed it against the wall. If he could find out the exact hour of the killings he could then know what had been broadcast at the time and maybe settle his fears…

"Kate…" he said in a low voice. For no reason he could think of other than this being the place she had died, his long departed friend returned to the front of his mind. This time, however, the image of Kate Sullivan in his thoughts was not that of the strong woman he mentored; now she was still wearing her police uniform but her face was burnt black beyond recognition, except for her eyes which shined with cold malevolence.

Why did this have to happen just four days before his retirement?

0-0-0

Shanghai Gold was one of the largest Chinese food restaurants in the city, and one of the most popular too; that night it was bustling as usual, which very much pleased its owner, Jinghai Lang. He used the establishment as a legitimate front and the restaurant was profitable, more than what he had ever expected it to be. He was currently sitting in a corner, drinking beer as he idly watched his clients waiting for their orders or already eating. His mind was busy with the deal he expected to close with Luis Sandoval. The Chinese drug lord was convinced that old man was delusional if he thought he could come back after twenty years and command obedience. He was nothing but an intermediary, easily replaceable, too. Jinhai smiled; if Sandoval refused to cooperate he would be signing his death warrant. After all, there were many other suppliers he, Fred and Mario could turn to.

Behind the restaurant was an alley. It was clean but not well lit and where the back door was located. It was empty, which made it easier for the patrol car to enter and stop next to the employee's entrance. Two silent figures emerged from the car and walked to the door. Not bothering knocking, the big cop simply brought the door down with a mighty shove. He didn't stop and continued walking, the second cop following him.

The cleaning lady who had been near the door screamed in surprise when the first cop burst in, but then screamed in fear and pain when he grabbed her by the head and smashed her on the wall, cracking her skull and silencing her permanently. A second janitor swung a broom at the aggressors, but got a large knife to the neck for his efforts courtesy of the female one. Undeterred the pair of supernatural policemen entered the kitchen proper where they met the cooks and servers already waiting for them. Most of the restaurant's personnel were familiar with the illegal activities of their boss and a few where criminals themselves; they were not going to let the cops get them without a fight, not after seeing what they had done to their coworkers. These were killer cops and they were going to pay.

Only the cooks and waiters never had a chance. The first thing the large cop did as he entered the kitchen was to shoot two of them dead, something his companion did as well. The remaining six chefs ducked for cover as several of the waiters reached for knives to attack. One of them slashed at the dark man, but was caught by the neck and forced to drop the knife. The big cop put his gun under his belt so he could use both hands and with a twist of his wrists and a sick cracking sound dislocated the server's neck. He continued his rampage by throwing two waiters against the wall so hard they didn't get up afterwards. One of the chefs managed to stab him in the shoulder, and was rewarded by getting his face submerged in boiling oil and then his head twisted the wrong way. The next victim was a waiter who got shot in the chest before he could use the knife he held in his hand. Deciding it was time to move on the cop grabbed the wounded server and tossed him through the kitchen's doors with such force he landed on a table in the middle of the restaurant's area, crushing it on impact.

The female cop had stayed near the door, making sure no one would escape. She had shot two servers who had tried that, and currently held a waitress against the wall. When she saw her partner was already in the restaurant, she brought the waitress down and smashed her head against a stove, opened its working oven and then shoved her stunned victim there, leaving her to roast. She then followed the other murderer, ready to provide assistance if he needed it.

The customers had started to flee the restaurant in a panic the minute gunshots were heard, and the few curious who remained ran for the door the moment a body literally flew from the kitchen and crashed against a table. Amidst the screams of horror and the panic, Jinhai remained relatively calm. His three bodyguards were around him, and a fourth one would be at the door with a car soon. He was already heading for the exit. He did not doubt for a second he could escape this unscratched.

The big man who emerged from the kitchen and set his sights on him, however, had different plans. The bodyguards opened fire but bullets had no effect at all, they seemed to vanish the moment they touched him. The bullets from the undead cop's gun, however, were highly effective. Three shots and the three henchmen were dead. Jinhai didn't even try to fight he simply bolted for the exit, but was dropped by an intercepting strike of a police baton in the face. He struggled back to his feet and saw the other cop. He hadn't noticed her, probably because she had been standing behind the killing mammoth who'd shot his men dead.

"I have money…!" Jinhai screamed.

The dark policeman lifted his baton to eye level and with a swift move revealed it concealed a long blade.

"I have money!" Jinhai repeated. "I can give you a million… two million!"

But the silent officer did not listen nor was he swayed by the offer; he simply moved forward and stabbed the drug baron in the chest, puncturing his left lung and heart. He pulled back and caught Jinhai before he fell. The Maniac cop glanced at his victim one last time and then let him drop so he could bleed to death on the floor.

His mission accomplished, Matt Cordell walked out the back door, his partner again behind him. Both boarded their vehicle and simply drove away, leaving the crime scene as calmly as they had arrived.

0-0-0

For the second time that day, Sean McKinney wondered why this was happening so close to his retirement. He also berated himself for being here, but he had no choice, he _had_ to be. If Cordell was indeed back it was his duty to stop him, hopefully for the last time. He entered the restaurant, already full of cops and hoped that this time he could talk to a witness. The detective frowned, of course there would be one or two. Cordell liked to leave witnesses when he went after lots of people. McKinney was not disappointed, he saw a cook sitting in a chair, trembling and trying to smoke a cigarette with little success. Then he noticed who was interviewing him: Daniel Sullivan.

"I'll handle this," McKinney offered as he approached.

"He's making no sense," Daniel said, but he did not move an inch. "He says…"

"I said two cops did this!" the chef alleged with a scared squeak. "A big one, six foot tree easy maybe more… his face all cut up… and that blonde policewoman with those burn marks on her face!"

"You see detective? I told you it makes no sense," Daniel rejoined.

McKinney ignored the young cop and focused on the witness. "Was the man missing an arm?"

"No, no… he had two…" the chef stated lifting two fingers, "two arms."

Sean nodded. "I see… anything else?"

The man appeared to be calmer now that someone seemed to believe him. He sucked on his cigarette and exhaled a cloud of white, smelly smoke. "His baton had a blade inside."

The veteran detective swallowed and paled a little at those words. "Thank you, you were very helpful."

Sean turned and left the restaurant. It had been Cordell, he was now almost sure of it. Once on the street, McKinney allowed himself to tremble in fear. He felt the need for a smoke, even if it tasted like shit, and reached into his breast pocket only to remember he'd throw the package away; just his luck.

"Detective McKinney," called Daniel, who had followed him out. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing you need to care about."

"You know who did this, or at least have an idea, don't you?" the young policeman insisted. "It's why you asked for that one-armed man, right?"

"Kid, you don't want to get involved in what I'm doing," McKinney warned. "You really don't."

"Detective…"

"Go finish your work," Sean recommended. "They need you in there."

Daniel tried to refuse but had to concede McKinney was right. He was needed in there. "This is conversation is not over," he promised.

"It is as far as I'm concerned."

He watched the young cop enter the restaurant and leaned on his car. He suddenly felt very old, ancient even, and absolutely terrified of the implications Cordell having a woman helping him had brought to the table.

Just like that morning, the crime scene made McKinney think about Kate's death; to how Matt had taken her to that church where her comatose body had been set ablaze by accident. He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache approaching. A female cop was helping Cordell, a female cop with a burned face. It couldn't be, could it?

"This shouldn't be happening."

But it was, and the chance it may be his fault terrified him so much his hands started shaking.

0-0-0

The esoteric bookstore was well kept and modest and hoping to gain customers its owners had set a small area with five computers for customers to access the internet and a soda and snacks machine. McKinney had been visiting this place even before they brought those computers and knew the owner quite well. He, however, was not here to see her; this time he'd come to see a man he had hoped he would never have to see him again, how foolish he'd been.

"Sean McKinney, it's been what? Two years?" the store owner said when she noticed the detective. "I imagine you're not here for a book, huh?"

He sighed, tired. "No, Bertha, I'm here to talk to your husband. Is he in?"

"Yeah, he's in and he's been waiting for you."

"Is that so?"

"Talk to him if you don't believe me," the woman smiled. "Go, he's in the office, and excuse me if I don't join you, I'm about to close the shop."

The office behind the counter was small and more than a little claustrophobic thanks to the bookshelves which covered three of the walls all the way up to the ceiling. The only furniture was a small desk and two chairs, and the desk was littered with papers, religious and pagan trinkets which included crosses, David's stars, Egyptian symbols and other similar effigies. The man behind the desk was a slim and cadaveric black man in a blue shirt and white suit. His name was Gerard Tamer, but for a lot of people he was simply known as 'Papa Grande' exorcist and spiritualist. McKinney met the man years ago thanks to his Cordell related research and after years of knowing him, had to admit Gerard was a true expert on his field.

"The tarot cards did not lie," the man behind the desk said. "They told me you would come."

"Hello, my friend," Sean said as he sat on the opposite chair. "Have your cards told you anything else, about certain undead cop, perhaps?"

"Matt Cordell?"

"Yes, I believe he's back but…"

"What is it, detective, what is making you doubt?"

"The witness said something that doesn't fit," McKinney started. "He said the killer was a big man dressed as a cop, but he told us the man had two arms."

"From what I remember, you told me our undead policeman lost his left arm the last time you and him clashed."

"Exactly, that's why there's a chance this is a copycat."

Gerard laughed at the tone of hope he detected in the detective's voice. "After all these years you still haven't learned?"

"Learn what?"

"Not to underestimate that which is beyond the human world," the spiritualist clarified. "And to expect the unexpected from those who have crossed to the other side and returned; you have not learned that, detective. You are a believer and that is good, but you still want to apply rules, _laws_ , to things we are not meant to understand."

"If we can't understand them then how can men like you exorcise ghosts out of people?"

"Oh, but I _don't_ understand it. I know what works but neither I nor any other men in my trade knows why or how… and if one of us ever tells you they _do_ know, then they're lying to you."

"So you agree this is Cordell."

"I am sure. You see, McKinney… those creatures can quickly regenerate lost limbs. Bone and muscle they can regrow when their spirit is powerful enough. Skin, too, but that takes longer, decades even, for a strange reason unknown to me."

The detective ran a hand through his whitening hair and bit his lower lip. "They said he has a partner, now, a female cop with a burned face… this makes no sense, I mean, these last twenty years I've seen murders from time to time that seemed to be Cordell's work but never anything that made me think she…"

"You never did tell me her name," Gerard said when McKinney appeared to lose his voice. "I only know Cordell wanted her, but her spirit did not accept him and refused to return."

"Kate. Her name is Kate," McKinney whispered. "And I think… but… how could she know?"

"Know what, detective?"

"Nothing," Sean stood up and headed for the door. "I have to go, Gerard. There are many things I need to do."

"I pray you are victorious again, McKinney," the man said. "I really do."

"Thank you, my friend," the officer offered. "If I survive this..."

"We'll celebrate," Gerard smiled. "And then we'll both retire from all this supernatural shit."

"I'll toast to that."

"So will I," the spiritualist said. "So will I."

"Well, until then."

The spiritualist nodded and watched in silence as his friend exited his office. He poured himself some wine once he was alone, thinking that McKinney would not survive if he was alone when he inevitably encountered Cordell again.

0-0-0

The security video was so brutal it was difficult to watch. Daniel Sullivan was standing near the door in the small room where he and other officers watched in uncomfortable silence the evidence of the Shanghai Gold massacre. The cameras had captured almost everything, starting with the police car approaching the back entrance and the murder of two janitors, following with an overhead shot of the kitchen, displaying in minute detail most of the carnage that had taken place in that location; the angle changed then, as the restaurant camera had been set in a corner, to show the moment both murderous cops entered the dining area and how they mauled the Asian drug baron and his men. The faces of the murderers, unfortunately, had never been on camera, not even once.

"Well, that was something," Officer Dell said from his seat near the screen once the video was over. He seemed as uncomfortable as the rest of his coworkers and spoke just to break the heavy silence.

"They're not cops," Detective Reed stated. "They can't be."

"What if they are, Reed?" an officer said. "What if they are?"

"Anyone can get a uniform in a costume shop these days," a third cop disputed. "Those are hit men hired by a rival gang. We all know what Jinhai's real business was."

"You mean someone wants to start a war between the barons?" Dell rejoined.

"Luis Sandoval is out of jail, is he not?" detective Josh cut in, he'd been pensive and did not like the idea that was forming in his mind. "The whole drug business was stable with the four drug barons but then the former big fish is returned to the pond. I'm thinking Sandoval is not interested in playing nice with the younger boys."

"The three factions will join forces against him if that is the case," Said Reed. "Seems to me Sandoval is losing it if he's willing to go this far."

"He was always a crazy, violent asshole," another middle-aged officer opined. "He probably thinks he can force all four gangs to obey him because he controls the dope flow."

This theory was welcomed by every officer in the small room, all of them knew of the kind of man Luis Sandoval was and had been expecting for something like this to happen. They let the previous top supplier of cocaine free of course he's going to try to show he still was a man to be feared to secure his business. All the cops agreed with this, all but two.

One was Detective Josh Hammond, who had a lot of things in his mind but did not dare voice them to avoid being labeled a crazy old coot. The other one was Daniel Sullivan, who had recognized the red sheath and the blade the female cop on the video had used to murder the janitor. He'd seen them recently in the pictures of his Aunt Kate's birthday party. The sheath and blade were exactly like the ones she'd gotten as a present. Yes, he admitted it could all be a coincidence but deep down he felt it was not. Someone had stolen his aunt's knife or gotten a hold of it somehow.

"McKinney," Daniel said under his breath, recalling the way the old detective had acted in the Chinese restaurant, his elusive answers and the way he'd seemed to pale as he heard the witness talk about the killers. McKinney knew _something_ he was not sharing, something _big_ ; perhaps the identity of the murderers disguised as cops and not just that, but also the reason why that female killer had a Kukri identical to his aunt's.

The young cop excused himself and walked out of the room. Finding McKinney and forcing him to share everything he knew about this killer becoming his new priority.

0-0-0

The other barons heard of Jinhai's death only minutes after the police got to Shanghai Gold and their response was to call for an emergency meeting. Mario had been in charge of organizing it in a neutral zone, that being a parking lot he owned, and was not surprised when only Fred showed up with twenty heavily armed men behind him, not that Mario didn't have a similar amount of people ready to back him up in case of trouble. They waited for an hour, but neither Luis nor Salvatore arrived.

"It's almost two A.M. Seems the Colombians and the Italians are not coming," Fred said, tired of waiting. "Not surprising."

"So, you finally agree they offed Jinhai?"

"Yes. Because Luis doesn't know us," Fred started. "Oh, but he and Salvatore, they're _tight_. It's obvious they want to make things the way they were before. Old bastards fear us man, that's why they killed Jin."

"And we are next," Mario completed. "They must think we're a pair of pendejos. They caught Jinhai by surprise but you and me, bato… we'll be ready."

Fred couldn't reply, for a police car sped into the parking lot and started going in circles, running over some of Fred's and Mario's men before they could react. Those who had dodged the car started shooting at it until it crashed against Mario's Hummer. The Mexican baron, enraged by the damaged on his vehicle, fired his ' _cuerno de chivo_ ' at the patrol car, aiming for the windows. The shooting continued for a little longer until the car was ruined. Confident nobody could survive such onslaught, Fred and Mario approached the car.

"I think these here are the crooked cops I heard Luis and Salvatore sent to kill Jinhai," Mario guessed.

"Well, the fuckers are dead," Fred grinned, walking besides his friend. "And two less blue pigs is always a win, don't you agree?"

Mario couldn't reply, a gunshot was heard and his head was pierced by a bullet. Fred screamed in surprise and jumped behind the Hummer for cover just in time before counter fire started. Damned cops had faked it and now were shooting back!

"Shoot the motherfuckers!" Fred ordered, but while some of the gunmen obeyed, others simply dropped their guns and fled, screaming something about zombie cops.

"What zombie cops?" he frowned, angered at his superstitious men's cowardice. Zombie cops his ass! Risking a look he was greeted with an image that shook him to the core. A big officer holding a rifle was walking towards him, ignoring the bullets hitting him as he moved. The other cop, a woman, seemed as unfazed by gunfire as the big one was, and she was shooting back with deadly accuracy, dropping a man with every shot. That however, was not what terrified Fred, no, their faces had done it. Those scarred facades with cold, dead eyes!

Unable to think, he realized too late the big one was already in front of him. He opened fire, emptying his gun on the man even if he knew it wouldn't work. That was when the officer pointed the rifle at him.

"No! I can't die like this!"

The tall killer lowered the rifle and grabbed Fred. He pulled him to his feet and dragged him towards the police car. Ignoring the screams of the terrified drug baron the Maniac cop handed the rifle to his partner and then pushed him inside the bullet-riddled car, handcuffing him to the door. Fred, thinking they were arresting him, relaxed a little: if they took him to a police station he could always bribe his way out. That was when he felt the car move. He looked to the passenger's side and lost his voice when he saw what the scarred cop was doing. He was trying to lift the car!

"What the fucking hell?"

The silent officer steadied his feet and with little effort turned the patrol car over with a loud crash. He walked around it, apparently amused that Fred was still alive as he ripped off the fuel cap. Gasoline started leaking and pooling under the car's hood, reaching the wailing man's face in seconds. With slow steps, the Maniac cop retreated from the car and stopped when he was standing next to his companion. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she nodded in understanding. Without hesitation she shot at the gasoline, setting it, and the car, on fire.

Leaving behind the burning car and ignoring the dying screams of the third drug baron, the undead couple vanished into the night.

0-0-0

Luis Sandoval had just finished breakfast and was walking back to his suite in order to meet with Salvatore, who had requested they see each other as soon as possible. Once inside his spacious room Sandoval found that both his nephew and his Italian friend were already there; Salvatore was holding a DVD case in his hand and the concern in his face was a clear indicator things were not going well and would get worse before long. The Colombian drug lord tried thinking about any possible reasons why he should be worried but could not come up with anything. The last shipment of cocaine was as good as delivered and would be safe in Pier 10 until it was ready to be distributed, his small army of lawyers was keeping cops away and he had found dirt on the mayor he was planning to use in order to facilitate an agreement with City Hall that would make things just like old times; as far as he knew, all was going well.

"What's the problem?" Sandoval asked, skipping the pleasantries.

"The other drug barons are dead," Javier informed. "They were murdered last night."

"Is this a ' _welcome back_ ' present, Salvatore?" Luis asked, feeling glad the three kids were dead.

"No, my friend, it is not."

"Then who killed those brats?"

"The culprit was caught on video, I have a copy here," the Italian informed, showing the DVD case he held. "Word on the street is two cops killed Jinhai first and then ambushed the other two."

"You're joking, Salvatore! Two cops took down the kids?" the drug lord laughed. "What's this, ' _Lethal Weapon V_ ' or something?"

"Perhaps we should watch the video," Javier suggested.

"Yes, we should," Luis said, serious now, "because it is fucking impossible for just two cops to do what you are saying, Salvatore!"

A few minutes later, after watching the video, only Javier was able to talk. The younger criminal stood up and ejected the disc from the DVD player and turned to look at his uncle and the Italian baron. Both had paled slightly, and in his uncle's case it seemed he had seen a ghost.

"What's wrong?" Javier asked. "It's just a pair of cops wearing bulletproof vests and drugged up their ass. Nothing we can't stop now that we know what the whole deal is about."

" _Dio dannato_!" Salvatore cursed, completely ignoring the younger Sandoval. "Luis, do you realize we have a Cordell imitator with military gear in our hands? This is terrible! Can't you see? The Blacks, the Asians and the Mexicans will blame us for this!"

"Yes... They will come after us once they decide we're the ones who will benefit the most. But that is not important… Salvatore, the man on the video… he was _no_ copycat!" Luis Sandoval said hands trembling as he tried to light a cigarette. "I faced Cordell several times. I know him and I'm sure the bastard on the recording _is_ Matthew Cordell."

"Impossible! Cordell has been dead for over twenty years!"

"Think what you will, Salvatore," Sandoval answered finally managing to light up. "I say that man is Cordell, you say he's not. It doesn't matter. What matters is that we must get rid of him."

"We both know Cordell is dead!" Salvatore argued. "We paid his killers, don't forget that!"

"And all the men who attacked Cordell are dead," Luis said. "Don't tell me you didn't know?"

"I know there was a riot and they died there," the Italian answered.

"That is the official version," Sandoval argued. "The truth is a big man broke in and killed them all."

"And you think that man is our dead cop? Impossible! It was surely a crazy Cordell fan."

Luis Sandoval nodded, feeling too drained to argue. "Yes, maybe it was."

"Either way, the two killers on the video mean trouble, I don't think they're police. If they're not with the army then we have two crazy assholes with lots of money playing deadly vigilante. But whoever they are I don't want to find out. I'm leaving town until things are back to normal, and you should too."

"I'll consider it," Luis promised.

"Good, do that," said Salvatore as he left the suite, calling his assistant on the phone while he walked, demanding he finds a flight to Napoles as soon as possible.

Once alone, Luis got up and placed his hands on his nephew's shoulders. "We are not going to run away like cowards. Call the other gangs and tell them we know who killed the barons, tell them we can give them the murderers if they cooperate with us and if they hesitate, just mention I'll be the bait, they should agree if you do that."

"Consider it done," Javier promised, thinking his uncle was overreacting but appreciating the way he was trying to turn the tide away from their operation by feeding the other three gangs a sacrificial lamb, it was a very smart move, "Do you think they'll agree?"

"Of course they will. Right now they are driven by revenge! All we need to do is to focus that drive to suit our needs!"

Javier took in a deep breath and nodded. He was not afraid of talking to the other gangs, but he feared they wouldn't let him live long to share with them his uncle's plan.

0-0-0

McKinney, finally having the forensics report available, was checking the local radio stations on the internet to find out any podcasts or listings of their programming which coincided with the time those two vagabonds had been killed. It didn't take him long to find what he needed: a special program where some analysts debated about the implications of Luis Sandoval's release. The detective felt rewarded as everything made sense. McKinney was a Cordell expert, and found evidence than the mayor and commissioner who sent Matt to Sing Sing had both been on Sandoval's payroll. Now that the drug lord responsible from starting Cordell's demise was free it made sense the killings had started again.

Cordell was probably planning on killing Sandoval to finally complete his vengeance and as it was the rule for him he was going about it in the bloodiest way possible.

Daniel Sullivan did not bother with knocking and entered McKinney's office, feeling certain he would find the elusive veteran there. The young cop smiled as he noticed his sudden entrance had startled the soon to be retired officer. Sullivan peeked and frowned when he saw what McKinney had been looking at on his computer, considering it somewhat weird.

"I couldn't find you last night," Daniel said. "I have important things to talk about."

"I bet you do," McKinney said as he rolled his eyes, not feeling like tolerating the rookie.

"I think you know who the suspect from Shanghai Gold is," the young cop stated. "And I also believe you know who the female killer is."

The detective straightened in his chair and seemed to be feeling extremely uncomfortable hearing Daniel's conclusions. "Whether I know it or not, that's my business. Look, kid… I know you mean well but this is not something you should get involved with. Leave me alone."

"No. I'm not leaving until you tell me what you know!" Sullivan declared, placing his hands on McKinney's desk. "I'm tired of your secrets, McKinney! This is related to my aunt, isn't it?"

"And what if it is?" the veteran challenged, staring right into the younger man's eyes, trying to scare him off with an unfriendly glare but Daniel did not flinch. "You're fucking crazy, kid."

"If this has something to do with my aunt's death then you better tell me, McKinney. You owe her that much."

The detective leaned on his desk and considered things in silence. He slowly arrived to a conclusion that he didn't like but that he understood was unavoidable. He was getting old and was retiring soon, simple as that, and without him around nobody would keep watch; nobody would be ready to stop Cordell if he ever went on a rampage that did not involve criminals again.

McKinney understood he needed to find a successor.

Perhaps then, it was fate this Sullivan kid had arrived just now. Why not? If dead men could rise from their grave to murder the living it was also natural fate demanded an opposite force to exist. Sean realized he had been that force and he could see now that the time for him to step down from that position was approaching fast. It made sense his replacement had arrived when he could still teach him.

"Fate's really a bitch," he muttered.

"What?"

McKinney grinned. "Nothing, kid… nothing."

"Are you going to tell me or not?" Daniel demanded.

"It seems I have no other choice, junior," the detective's grin broadened. "But I'm sure you're not going to like it."

"Who says I want to like it?" the young cop challenged. "I just want the truth, as ugly as it is."

"Very well, the truth you shall have but first, read this," McKinney instructed as he pushed his ' _Cordell binder_ ' towards Daniel. " _All of it_. Find me when you're done, we'll talk then."

"What is this?"

"The truth," the detective said. "Now get out of here and do as you're told."

"But…"

"Get out, kid."

Understanding McKinney wouldn't talk unless he'd read the files on the binder, Daniel sighed and left the detective's office. He decided he'd browse through the old papers he'd been given, if only to be familiar with them before returning.

0-0-0

Martha Dulany came back from her favorite coffee shop to find young Sullivan sitting at his desk reading a binder she recognized as McKinney's. Curious, she approached and peeked over the man's shoulder just to confirm that yes, he was reading the ' _Cordell file_ ' as everybody in the station called it.

"McKinney gave you homework?" she joked.

"Kind of," he replied turning to look at her. "I just wanted to give it a quick look but this is actually very interesting, so…"

"You got into it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, couldn't help it."

"So, you believe in ghosts, Daniel?" asked Martha.

"Do you?" he shot back.

"As a matter of fact," the woman said as she sat in front of the younger officer, "Yes, I do."

"Really? I can't say I do. I've never experienced anything I could blame a ghost for."

"Well, ask a veteran. If we feel like it, most of us could tell you stories I'm sure would make you crap your pants," Martha said, almost whispering the words.

"And how do you know about them?" Sullivan asked, intrigued that Martha had this type of information. "Talked to a few veterans yourself?"

"Yes, I had to after _something_ happened to me."

"I see… what was it?" the young cop inquired.

Martha finished her coffee and crushed the cup before tossing it to Sullivan's basket. She then stared at him and sighed. "I saw a dead man walking." She pointed at a picture on the binder. "I saw _him_."

That declaration took Sullivan by surprise. "You've seen Cordell, when?"

"Ten years ago, you can even see the newspaper clipping on the binder," she revealed her voice shaking a little. She took in a deep breath and continued. "We were in this apartment building, fifth floor. A dealer had barricaded himself with two junkies and a teenager he grabbed from the hallway. We'd been chasing him, you know? But he got in that building and before we could catch that bastard he grabbed a girl, demanded his two customers to let him in the apartment and then slammed the door in our faces. We couldn't follow fearing he'd kill the hostages but…"

"What happened?"

Martha paled and her hands trembled a little. "We were going to call for backup, but that's when we heard the screams and one single shot."

Daniel waited until the woman was able to continue.

"My partner and I entered the apartment and what we found was… difficult to describe," she said. "I still remember… all that blood…"

"Who died?"

" _Everyone_ ," she whispered. "Everyone in the apartment was dead. They were all cut like pigs in a butcher house except for the dealer, he… his neck was broken and his skull crushed so bad his head was deformed and that's when I went to the window…"

"You don't have to continue if you don't want to," Daniel offered. "I think I've heard enough."

"I looked out the window and I saw him," Martha got out. "He was already on the street and then he turned and… I can swear he was staring right back at me! God… his face and those eyes… those cold, dead eyes!"

"Martha, you can stop now, I believe you." Daniel repeated even if he wasn't convinced she had met a dead man and had instead seen a psycho in a cop uniform.

The woman closed her hands into fists and breathed deeply, struggling to relax for a second or two. "I'm fine, it's just… _difficult_. An experience like that always leaves something behind. But I'm positive, Daniel… I saw Matt Cordell once and I'm glad I've never seen him again. I don't know where McKinney gets the strength to keep looking for clues about him, but…"

"What?"

"I think… I think he believes you could help him end this once and for all," Martha placed her hand over his and squeezed softly. "I truly hope you never cross paths with Cordell, kid. It could kill you."

Saying no more, Martha Dulany got up and walked to her own desk.

Daniel sat there, motionless for a moment before deciding Martha was just playing a joke on him and going back to Cordell's file. He read for a few hours until he'd gone from cover to cover and made sure that he hadn't missed a thing, he had even crosschecked most articles on his computer. When he felt satisfied he grabbed the binder and put it under his arm, feeling ready to go talk with McKinney again. As he walked through the halls however, Daniel remembered Martha's story and couldn't help but wonder if McKinney was trying to hand this case over to him before retiring.

A feeling of dread rose to his throat and he pushed it down. Whatever McKinney was planning did not matter. What mattered was his aunt and finding out the truth around her death. He could tolerate McKinney's eccentricities until he had reached that goal.

0-0-0

Once again in McKinney's office, Daniel found him talking to detective Josh. Not wanting to interrupt the young cop stood by the door, listening to their conversation: It had been decided that Josh should go check one of Luis Sandoval's most popular businesses to see if the Colombian drug lord was doing something suspicious. The chosen place was a shady strip club where Javier Sandoval spent most of his nights and the higher ups believed he would be stupid enough to let something slip or to do negotiations in the open.

"Now that you know what we're planning to do, are you interested?" Josh asked once he finished explaining. "If things go well, we may find out if there's a gang war brewing or not."

"Yes, I'm interested," the other detective said, though his interest was born from his belief that Cordell would start hunting Sandoval soon. "We're doing it tonight, right?"

"Yes, I just need to ask Douglas, he's also…"

"I'll go," Daniel interrupted taking a step forward. He wasn't sure why he'd volunteered but felt this was important if he wanted to get McKinney to talk, "if you don't mind."

"You?" Hammond seemed unconvinced. "You're still too green for this."

"He was at Shanghai Gold interviewing witnesses," McKinney said. "He's aware of what's happening and perhaps it would be a good idea to take him with us for backup, Josh. We're not exactly kids ourselves and neither is Douglas, you know?"

"Fuck you, Sean," Josh said with a laugh. "I'm not old, but I guess you may be right. Very well, if you're willing to babysit him, the kid can join us."

"I'll keep an eye on him," the older detective promised.

"Good, then we'll meet at 9:00 at the place," said Josh as he left McKinney's office "Don't be late."

Daniel stood there in silence wondering why McKinney had vouched for him. It intrigued him and for some reason made him remember Martha's words. Was this related to how the older detective may want his help hunting Cordell's ghost?

"Thanks," he said at last. "I'll try my best tonight."

"Don't mention it," the older officer said and sat behind his desk again. "So, you read it?"

Sullivan nodded and returned the binder. "Yes, it was… more detailed than expected."

"Found what you wanted?"

"I don't know," Daniel admitted as he took a seat in front of the detective. "I read all the information regarding my aunt's case you have there, but most of it I already knew. There is something I was not aware of, though."

"What was it?"

"The coroner who was supposed to examine her body was killed the very same night she died."

"Yes, he was."

"Is that related to why she was buried in a closed casket?"

McKinney sighed. "Her body disappeared that night, hers and Cordell's."

"What?" Sullivan got up and started pacing on the office. Her aunt's body had been stolen? Nobody had ever told him that! Did he and his family pay their respects to an empty coffin? Was this a sick joke?

"If it helps, her body was too damaged. It burned to the point it was practically falling apart when we recovered it."

"Of course it doesn't help!" Daniel hissed. "Do you think this is funny, McKinney? All these years and nobody told me! Did you even tell my parents?"

"I told them there was too little of her left when we found the body. They refused to take any remains and chose to bury a closed casket with her uniform, gun and other personal effects instead."

Daniel crumbled on the chair and struggled to calm down. "This is fucking crazy."

"Everything related to Matthew Cordell is crazy," McKinney offered. "I thought you'd have understood that by now."

"Cordell is not out there," Daniel said. "I think it's time you let that obsession go. We have two maniacs out there wearing police uniforms and trying to start a fucking gang war! And one of those is using a knife like the one my aunt had. We need to find them and stop them!"

"I never cleared her name," McKinney interrupted.

"What?"

"I never cleared her name," Sean repeated, "not properly, at least."

The young man leaned forward and ran a hand through his hair. "Great, just what I needed to hear. Why didn't you?"

"The tape clearing her disappeared," McKinney said. "I showed it to the Captain and we went to the commissioner with it, we asked he showed it to the mayor's people."

"And?"

"Nothing, the tape was lost somewhere in city hall," the detective said, reaching for a bottle of mineral water from one of his drawers and drinking from it. "But I learned something that I think explains the tape vanishing."

"I'm listening."

"The head doctor of the hospital Kate was in used to be friends with the commissioner back then," Sean provided. "And if you read the binder, you know what happened to that doctor and the commissioner two years after your aunt died."

"The commissioner died in a car accident," Daniel recalled. "And there was a mention of a prominent doctor dying after he fell in the shower."

"That one was a lie." McKinney said. "The truth is his wife found him in the bathtub, cut open from thigh to neck, a bunch of coke and pot on the floor. We were asked to say it'd been an accident to keep the hospital's reputation clean. I assume he and the commissioner hid the tape clearing your aunt. If we'd shown it to the news, it would've made the hospital look bad for trying to cut her life support."

"I see… so you're telling me the case was closed because nobody alive would sue the city for police brutality and since you couldn't clean my aunt's name, the whole mess was quietly swept under the rug to keep a hospital's name honorable… while the fact remains she was never publicly exonerated of those charges."

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"And you're hinting that someone, possibly a ' _zombie_ ' cop, killed the commissioner and doctor responsible for stealing the video, aren't you?"

"Not exactly a 'zombie' but yes, I am."

"You do realize how foolish all of this sounds?"

"Not foolish if you've seen the things I have."

Sullivan got up and headed for the office's door. "You're asking me to believe in ghosts, detective. You must realize this is… _crazy_. Still, thank you for telling me what really happened after my aunt died. I honestly appreciate that, and thank you for doing your best to clear her name. Your story about an undead cop, though… I can't believe that."

"I hope you can remain a skeptic forever, Daniel," Sean said. "Be at the club at 21:00 sharp, Josh is very punctual."

"I'll be there."

0-0-0

The old warehouse was full of junked police cars; it was owned by the city and used by the NYCPD as one of their designated places to store run-down or scrapped vehicles. It was almost always deserted, with only one person in charge of visiting it monthly to check for theft or vandalism. This place was located on pier number 14, where many years before a woman named Sally Noland had hidden Matt Cordell, who had subsequently murdered her during one of his rampages through a police station. And it was here where the undead cop had taken refuge since the church he had been using for that purpose was now full of unwanted visitors.

Matthew sat in a chair, eyes closed as he allowed his body to regenerate damaged muscle. Cordell had given up on trying restoring his skin, as he had only managed to do that once when he first returned from the grave, sans the scars he had gotten before dying. It was not important, as the scarred flesh over his skull was more than enough and he cared little about cosmetic details like those. Restoring bone and muscle had always been his main priority.

Across him sat a second figure. A female cop who looked at Cordell with soft eyes; she refused him at first but in the end he had been the only one who helped her, the only one who understood. Kate Sullivan looked down at her hands and wondered if someday the burned skin would return to its original condition. She knew her face had improved, going from a blackened mess of charred skin to something that almost resembled her old self. She believed that, with time, this capacity which allowed her to regenerate so quickly now that she had returned to the world of the living would be able to fully restore her face.

But she was content with her muscle and bone healing for the time being, because that allowed her to support Matt with his revenge the way he had helped her with hers. And for both of them, revenge came only after each other.

Kate leaned back as she remembered the events from the night she returned to this world more than twenty years before…

… _She floated, boundless, above her body. She could see the coroner, looking at the documents and she could see his hand, Matthew's, reaching for hers. She was not supposed to be there. She had died at peace with the knowledge McKinney would clear her name. She could go and rest, she had earned it. Then he rose. He was charred but his body seemed to be healing somehow. He walked towards the coroner and strangled him. For a brief moment she wished she could stop that act of brutality but soon realized that she did not care about the forensic. Now he was gently picking her body up with his left arm. She noticed he was missing his right, but tendrils of bone and flesh were already building a new one. By the time he had exited the building, he had regrown a functional arm._

 _She had no recollection of what happened after that, but the frail bound she had with her body pulled her and she recovered awareness when he placed her, carefully and slowly, on a couch. A quick glance around revealed a dirty and rundown apartment. She saw a dead man by the kitchen so she assumed Cordell had killed him to secure this place. There was a TV to her left, and she could see the news on the dirty screen. He wore a new police uniform, and she noticed he had his shiny badge with his name on it. He dragged a stool and sat near the couch, staring at her in silence. She felt naked and exposed, but her shame abandoned her when she heard what a reporter was saying._

 _They were talking about her, so her attention centered on the dim glow of the screen. She was hanging on every word, listening as they reminded the audience of her situation and then the anchorman stated they had a video from that morning's press conference... that morning? How long had Cordell kept her body hidden? Her doubts vanished once the commissioner appears on screen._

" _Due to her passing, as well as that of the criminal who accused her of police brutality, it is the decision of this police department to close the investigation regarding Kate Sullivan's actions on the field," the chief said. "That will be everything gentlemen, thank you for coming."_

 _Wait… they were closing the case? What about the tape Matt had given McKinney? She had seen in this ethereal form the moment her mentor had taken that tape! Surely he had shown it to their superiors! Why were they not mentioning it? Why?_

 _Were they simply letting her die like this, her name dirty by libel and slander? No! NO!_

 _The spirit raged at this. She had done so much for them, sacrificed everything for the force and this was how they repaid her? If only she could do something! If only!_

 _Kate felt something pulling her down. The tether connecting her soul to her body had gotten stronger. Yes…! Maybe that way she could find a way to have justice!_

 _The charred corpse stirred almost imperceptibly, and her right index and thumb moved a little._

" _Are you saying there is no more evidence for this case?" A reporter asked on the television._

" _No, there is nothing new," the commissioner said. "I believe Kate Sullivan's family deserves respect and so, the case will be closed. I request that all of you let her rest in peace."_

" _It appears the commissioner is all too glad this is over," the anchorman said as he appeared on screen again. "Unsurprising, and while we do send our condolences to officer Sullivan's family, this reporter also hopes these events will help our authorities be more responsible when it comes to police brutality, because…"_

 _The reporter's words were cut short. A bony fist covered with black, burned flesh smashed the screen, releasing a rain of sparks all over the living room._

" _Liars!_ _" An unnatural, guttural and frightening voice accused._

 _Standing in front of the ruined television stood a corpse burnt beyond recognition, but the body was already repairing itself, fresh muscle grew over bone, tendons slowly repaired themselves and the cold, angry eyes of the new undead gleamed with an unending thirst for vengeance._

 _The corpse tried walking, but she collapsed and only the strong arms of Cordell kept her from hitting the floor. He carried her back to the couch and nodded at her body. She looked down and saw the healing process taking place. She nodded back, understanding. He would help her get the revenge she desired. He understood her pain and rage. He would have her back unlike the rest of them. He was… he was hers. He was her partner. And she… she was his? Yes, she was his and it… it felt right, as if it was the way things were meant to be._

 _Pleased knowing she had someone willing to help her Kate agreed to relax. Vengeance would come in time but right then she had to rest or she wouldn't recover her strength._

 _Hours later, Kate stood inside her old apartment. Her family had been there but she didn't care about them. All she cared about was finding what she wanted: her spare police uniform and badge, which she now wore. Now she needed a tool to castigate those who let her die in shame, and she found it in her bedroom, still hanging above her bed._

 _She reached for it and tied it to her belt. This would be more than enough to punish the ones who had wronged her: her sharp and deadly Kukri blade…_

Cordell stood up and motioned for her to follow. She returned the gesture and did as he requested. It was night already and as far as she and Matt were concerned, it was the night Luis Sandoval, his nephew and their drug empire would die.

0-0-0

The tall policeman twirled his baton as he walked the street, his destination the Strip Club on the next corner. His cap and the overhead lights cast a shadow hiding his features from those on the other side of the street, and the people sharing his sidewalk made sure to stay as far away from him as they could, such was the menacing presence he radiated. He turned left when he reached the alley behind the club and was soon lost amidst the shadows.

Inside the club the mood was festive, men were clapping at the pole dancers showing their assets and dancing to the beats the DJ played for them, waitresses moved back and forth from the bar carrying drinks to the customers' tables, lights blinked to the rhythm. This establishment's reputation as one of the best in the city was indeed well earned.

Three men sat in a small corner table. Two of them drank beer and the other had settled with a bottle of Pepsi. Daniel had argued he was still on duty and refused to consume alcohol, while McKinney and Josh, both veterans, had no qualms about enjoying their dos equis while they watched Javier Sandoval, who was sitting in a table nearby. So far the young gangster had not met with anyone suspicious, spending most of his time texting on his cell phone. He did talk to a few patrons, but they all seemed to approach him only to congratulate him for the place or to apparently solicit the services of one of the dancers.

"I didn't know some girls here were also hooking," Josh said. "It's probably the only thing I've seen so far we could question him about."

"I'm sure we'd find coke here if we look for it," McKinney offered, "marijuana and other shit as well."

"No doubt," Daniel agreed. "Look, our man is leaving his table."

"He's going backstage," Josh observed.

"Let's wait a few minutes before we follow," McKinney suggested.

Javier walked to the discrete door located next to the stage and the bouncer stepped aside to let him in. He turned right and greeted two dancers who were waiting for their turns as he made his way to the stairs leading to the upper floors of the club, where his office was.

The young Sandoval sat behind his desk a few minutes later and reached for a little plastic bag he kept in a drawer: his personal stash of cocaine. He did a couple of lines and put the dope back in, feeling better and better as the drug started to affect him. He started thinking about his uncle's actions and once again reached the conclusion that the old man was losing it. Javier simply couldn't understand why his uncle Luis had ordered him to spread the word that he would be waiting for the killer cops on his warehouse in Pier 10. Neither could he understand why he'd called gunmen from the Mexican, Asian and Black gangs and offered them the chance to avenge their leaders. He was still surprised by the fact they all agreed help his uncle. Javier, however, did not like the idea of being in a warehouse with no way out setting an ambush for the two murderers who had taken out three drug barons. If they had asked him, he would have instead located the psychos so he could corner them and burn their hideout to the ground. A knock on the door changed his mood immediately. This was surely the girl he had requested before coming to the office and he could really use a lap dance and a little extra before having to go all the way to pier 10 to help his uncle with his crazy scheme.

"Called for some room service, Mr. Sandoval?" the dancer cooed, smiling as Javier sat in a couch.

"And maybe something else, baby," he smirked and made himself comfortable, ready to enjoy his private service.

The brunette started her routine, sensuously swaying her hips from side to side while running her hands over her voluptuous frame much to the pleasure of his audience. She lifted her hands above her head and slowly brought them down until they reached the front of her silver bra. She bent down and unhooked the piece of lingerie as she stretched back up, revealing her generous breasts, earning a ' _wooo!_ ' from the aroused Javier. Satisfied, she turned so he would be able to look at her behind when suddenly the office's door opened and a female cop entered the room.

Before the striper could react, the other woman shot her in the face for an instant-kill. Gun still at the ready she advanced towards Javier, who wasted no time and rushed for the window, planning on using the fire ladder outside to escape. He realized this was surely one of the killer psychopaths behind the Shanghai Gold massacre and had no intention of facing her.

"Leave me alone!" He demanded, wondering why the woman wasn't shooting at him. Then the window opened and nothing else mattered, he stepped out to the fire ladder only to find a dark colossus waiting for him. Javier didn't have time to scream or move, the Maniac Cop stabbed him on the chin, his knife going through the soft flesh and bone with ease.

Cordell pulled the blade down and held the convulsing, dying man up with his left hand. He let his knife hang lose and used his right hand to check his pockets, finding a set of keys marked as ' _Pier 10_ ' which confirmed what he had learned while he killed the bouncers in charge of the club's back door: Luis Sandoval would be there that night.

Having no further use for the dead criminal Cordell flung him to the street, two stories below. He then tossed the keys inside the room, where they landed on top of the dead stripper's back.

0-0-0

Daniel, Sean and Josh were already at the backstage stairs when they heard a shot coming from upstairs. This was all they needed to rush towards the offices on the upper floors. Daniel had little trouble taking the lead while Josh and McKinney found, much to their chagrin, that they weren't as fast as they used to be.

Sullivan reached the office first and what he found there made him stop cold. He didn't notice the bodies, though he did see them. What captured his full attention was the female cop standing near the window. He knew her frame, he knew her blonde hair and when she turned to look at him, he recognized her blue eyes.

"A… A-aunt K-Kate?" He stuttered, too surprised to say anything else.

The woman stared at him for a second and her gaze, cold and unforgiving, warmed up for a fraction of an instant. This did not last, as McKinney and Josh arrived to the hall behind Daniel and started rushing to the office. She turned and exited the room through the window, going up the fire ladder with impressive speed.

"No, wait!" Daniel called, rushing behind the woman who should not be alive.

"Don't go alone, you idiot!" McKinney warned but it was too late, Sullivan was already climbing the ladder.

"Stupid kid is going to get himself killed!" Josh lamented.

"Not if we help him," said Sean as he went after him, glad that the kid was only a few steps ahead. If they hurried they would reach the roof together.

And so they did.

A gust of wind greeted them when they reached the top of the stairs. The two killers were already on the other end of the roof, about to descend using the ladder on that side of the building.

"Cordell, wait! Listen to me!" McKinney shouted as he walked towards the hulking undead policeman. "We can capture Sandoval! Let us do this for you!"

The only response McKinney got was Cordell unholstering his gun, which he then pointed at him.

"We can capture this guy, Matt. You don't have to kill anymore!" Sean insisted.

Cordell pulled the trigger and Daniel, confused as he was by what he was seeing, managed to dive left to avoid the gunfire, reaching for his pistol as he did so.

McKinney fell.

"You know you can't reason with that freak!" Josh screamed. He had tackled McKinney as soon as he saw the Maniac Cop fired, saving his friend at the last second. "What the hell's wrong with you, Sean?"

The two detectives looked up, wondering why Cordell wasn't shooting at them anymore. They found that Sullivan was already on his feet, gun at the ready, standing before them as a shield.

"Aunt Kate?" Daniel tried again. "Is that you?"

No answer.

Sullivan took a tentative step forward, but stopped as Cordell pointed his gun at him. Daniel steeled himself and took another step towards the Maniac Cop, but his eyes were not set on him. Daniel's full attention was on the female killer. Cordell did not like it, but he never fired his gun. A hand on his forearm stopped him.

Cordell looked back at Kate, who was gripping his arm in a gentle but firm manner. He hesitated for a moment and then lowered his gun, nodded at his partner and started going down the fire ladder. The female cop remained on the roof for a moment longer, staring at Daniel with what appeared to be a mix of melancholy and sorrow before she too used the ladder to descend the building.

"Wait!" Sullivan called, rushing to the other end of the roof, only to find that both mysterious cops were already on the street. This made no sense to him, how did they do it? It didn't take him more than mere seconds to cover the roof and the revenants were already boarding a police car? It was impossible!

"It's too late to go after them," said McKinney. He and Josh were now at Sullivan's side, looking down the street. "We'll have to wait until they make their next move."

"So your old friend is back," Josh lamented. "You should have told me when I asked you this afternoon, Sean!"

"I couldn't until I was absolutely sure it was him. I'm sorry," McKinney apologized.

"That woman is my aunt," Sullivan interrupted. "That female cop is Kate, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is. Now that I've seen her I'm sure of it."

"And you knew, didn't you?" Daniel said, looking straight at McKinney.

"I suspected it but…"

"It's your fault!" the young man accused, grabbing the detective by the coat, barely containing his rage. "Kate turned into a freaking ghoul and it's your fault, damn it!"

"Now's not the time for this kind of shit!" Josh interjected, forcing Daniel to let go off McKinney. "There's a fucking mess downstairs that we have to clean so you better calm down because we can't afford a mistake! Now listen, I'm going back there to see if there's something we can use. You two stay here and _talk_. Then go down and meet me. Understood?"

"Yes, detective," Sullivan said, "understood."

"Fine, I still have some things to tell Daniel anyway," McKinney agreed.

"Good," Josh lighted a cigarette and went back downstairs, cursing under his breath at this turn of events. He remembered his only encounter with Cordell a few years before and recalled the only reason why he still lived was because he had paid attention to McKinney's warnings, feeling the scene once he confirmed he was facing the Maniac Cop. Josh Hammond did not need to do that again, ever.

"I wasn't fully honest with you," Sean confessed once Josh left.

"No, really?" Sullivan said, still in a rotten mood, "when?"

McKinney ignored the kid's sarcasm and continued. "When I told you we recovered her body. The truth is we never found Kate's remains. That's the real reason why she had a closed casket; we just told your parents there was almost nothing left of her."

"You're an asshole, McKinney, you knew that?" Daniel accused staring at the city landscape as he felt he couldn't bear looking at the old detective. "You keep your little secrets without thinking how that's going to affect people, don't you?"

"You would never have believed me if I told you your aunt was an undead, a draug," the detective said. "Did you forget what you said in the station? You said this was crazy."

"I still think it is," the young officer said. "And what the fuck is a draug?"

"A death walker, an undead from the old Norse myths," McKinney explained. "They are ghosts who use their strong will to return to their bodies and walk the earth again. A friend of mine called Papa Grande believes that is the closest approximation to what Matt Cordell is now."

"So my aunt…"

"She and Cordell are both Draugar," Sean completed. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to send Kate to rest."

"No. Your help did her no good," Daniel said and started walking towards the opposite end of the roof. "Focus on your _old friend_ , McKinney. I'll be the one who helps Kate find peace."

Sean stayed on the roof for a few minutes. Wishing he had asked Josh for a smoke because he really felt he needed one. Finally, when he had steadied himself he went back to the office, where he found Daniel sitting behind the desk, looking somber and angry, while Josh stood near the door, studying something he held in his right hand.

"Found these on the woman's back. Someone obviously put them there. And guess what? The keys are marked," Josh said, "Pier 10."

"I think Cordell is telling us where to go," McKinney opined after a moment to consider this development. "He's done similar things before."

"Well, go and see if you're right," the other detective said. "I'll stay here and handle this mess."

"In that case I'll go with McKinney," Sullivan announced, standing up and staring hard at both detectives. "It's my business too."

0-0-0

Luis Sandoval always felt proud of his house. Unlike other drug barons who went for big manors full of expensive and tasteless garbage, he had instead chosen a solid two story brick house. It was ample and spacious but not so much it would draw unwanted attention and it had served him well in the past. As he walked through his home, entering each and every room, remembering the things he had done in them, he couldn't help but remember his bitch of a wife and the beatings he had been forced to give her and their kid. The woman was a weak American blonde and the boy she had borne him had been weak as a result. They had been his mistake, as he should have married a strong woman from his country like his papa always told him to. He had half-corrected that error when he strangled the woman, however. His son had, unfortunately, overdosed more than a decade ago leaving him with no heir and while the drug lord had never felt the need to grieve for his wife, his son's death _had_ saddened him for many years. He, however, was able to let the past remain in the past and besides, he still felt strong enough to have another son, and was planning on finding a strong woman with child bearing hips after the night's business was over.

His plan to get rid of Cordell was simple but he felt it would be effective. His nephew had contacted the other gangs for a meeting and Luis had used his silver tongue to win their help. The Asians, the Blacks and the Mexicans, all too eager to avenge their fallen leaders, agreed to send twenty men each to help him capture, torture and murder the two vigilantes responsible for killing Fred, Mario and Jinhai. Luis had wisely avoided mentioning the person they would be hunting was a vengeful man who came back from the dead.

But even if he kept quiet about it, Luis was convinced Cordell was now a supernatural entity. A superstitious man, he strongly believed that ghosts and other paranormal creatures existed, but that did not mean he thought they couldn't be destroyed. Enough bullets would weak the ghoul so they could capture him and burn it, because fire would destroy whatever it was Cordell had become, of that he was certain. His mama told him fire would save him when he was a little boy afraid of the Tunda: ' _The Tunda is cunning and evil, Luis, but not even she can survive in the fire. Ghosts fear fire, it purifies them, so sleep near to the fire when you are in the woods,_ ' she always said. And he believed her. Cordell would burn until he was gone from this world.

"There's been trouble, señor Sandoval."

The criminal turned to see one of his men standing by the door of the room he was in. "What do you mean trouble?"

"Your nephew is dead."

"Javier?" Luis was finding that difficult to believe, "how?"

"He was at one of your Strip Clubs. Someone killed him while he was with a hooker. From what I gather it was a big man dressed as a cop."

"Cordell…" the old man muttered. He was the only one who would dare to do this. Cordell… he had hunted him nonstop more than twenty years ago until he arrested him, and now that _hijo de la gran puta_ was hunting him again. Well, let him come, this time things would be different! Undead or not, this time Cordell would burn until nothing remained!

"What do you want to do, señor?"

"The plan remains the same; we're going to Pier 10 to prepare the ambush. That fucking killer will be there tonight. I'm sure of it. Tell my driver to pick me up in ten minutes."

"But…"

"Just call my driver, _carajo_!"

The gunman said no more and went to do as he had been instructed, leaving Sandoval alone. Once alone the drug lord realized he was starting to feel fear, so he focused on keeping it under control. He went back to his armory and picked up a bullet-proof vest which he hastily put on. With this preparation complete Luis walked out of the house and found his Range Rover was already waiting for him. Looking to his left he noticed three pick-up trucks would follow his SUV in order to offer protection in case of an attack. This pleased him, as it would surely discourage Cordell from attacking him before he reached the piers.

Feeling confident his plan would work, Sandoval boarded the SUV and gave the order to go.

0-0-0

The red vehicle made it to the avenue just fine and from there it would be only a matter of minutes to get to the piers. Traffic was light at that hour and everything seemed peaceful, to the point that Sandoval started thinking Cordell may not show up that night again. He soon discarded the idea. Cordell would show up, it was inevitable. The drug lord just wanted to know where and when.

"Interesting…" the driver said eyeing the rear mirror. "Police car just got behind us. It's an old model, seven years old at least. Perhaps some people bought it at an auction."

Luis Sandoval was sitting in the back seat, safety belt on like a good citizen so he had to twist a little in order to see what his driver was talking about. He did not like it. Yes, there was a patrol car behind them and yes, it was _old_. He doubted it was as the driver said. This was not a man who bought a retired police car to play-pretend cop at nights. This was…

"Cordell," Sandoval muttered.

As if knowing he had been recognized, the man behind the wheel of the patrol car accelerated, hitting the SUV hard enough to send it to the adjacent lane.

"What the fuck is going on?" the gunman on the passenger seat cursed. He tried to say something else, but the police car rammed them again.

"Why aren't the others shooting at that car?" Sandoval screamed, furious. "And why aren't you going faster? Step on it, we need to get away! And you! Call the others and tell them to stop that maniac!"

The gunmen did as they were told, the driver speeding up, trying to leave the pursuing car behind with little effort while the other used his cell-phone to demand backup. Behind them the police car was hot on their trail, getting so close its front bumper scrapped at them one second and falling back the next. And then gunshots at last! Sandoval's men had caught up to the patrol and were flanking it with their trucks as they shot at its occupants.

This was not effective however, for the police car sped up instead, leaving the three trucks behind and hit Sandoval's vehicle again! It then swerved left making the drug lord think Cordell was trying to pass them to avoid gunfire.

Bullets were flying around the red SUV as the gunmen in the trucks were in hot pursuit of the police car, shooting at it trying to bring it to a stop. Fearing for his safety, Sandoval unbuckled and hid in the space between the front and back seats, screaming orders to his driver, demanding he lost their pursuers.

One of Sandoval's pick-up trucks accelerated so it was on the other side of the police car. It smashed on it, slowing it down so the drug lord's SUV was able to put some distance between them. The second truck caught up with the patrol and the gunmen on the cargo bed opened fire. The third truck was behind the police patrol and its occupants also started shooting. The police car was a mess now, its chassis was riddled with bullets, all windscreens shattered and both head and tail lamps were gone, white smoke filtered through the seams and yet the ones inside it appeared unaffected by the gunfire.

The man behind the wheel of the police car accelerated to get away from the attacking trucks then made a sharp turn to the right, forcing the pick-up on that side to stop to avoid crashing. Regular traffic, as scarce as it was at that time was still coming, and while the scared drivers had managed so far to avoid the gunfire, Cordell's last maneuver forced a sedan into the next lane where it smashed on a taxi and then both cars lost control, crashing on a packed bar, going through the ample doors and windows, crushing several men and women who had been waiting in line to enter the establishment. This was enough to momentarily distract Sandoval's men, something the Maniac Cop took advantage of by returning to the lane his target's SUV had taken.

The three pick-ups were behind him almost immediately but this time Cordell was ready. He lowered the speed and when one of the trucks was on his side, he reached for it with his left hand and punched at it! His titanic strength enough to send the truck crashing against the cars parked on that side of the avenue, its occupants flying out of the vehicle and smashing brutally on the floor.

At the same time Kate reached for a rifle they kept on the back seat and aimed at the second pick-up. She shot with deadly accuracy, hitting the driver first and then one of the front wheels, causing the vehicle to tumble and crash into an oncoming van, resulting on the pick-up toppling over, crushing the rest of the thugs riding on the back. The thug driving the last truck wisely chose to quit the chase, and none of the men riding the truck complained about this. They simply watched in silence as the police car sped off, no doubt ready to catch Luis Sandoval before he got to Pier 10.

0-0-0

McKinney frowned as several police cars passed him. He considered following them but instead turned left in the next exit, taking an alternate route to the piers. His radio wouldn't stop mentioning the chase and shootout at Winslow Avenue, which confirmed Cordell had been pursuing someone, Sandoval, he imagined.

"What are you doing?" Sullivan complained, "We have to go help!"

"No, we don't," the detective replied. " _We_ need to focus on stopping Cordell."

"You're a cold bastard! There may be survivors and…"

McKinney stopped the car and stared hard at Sullivan. "Get out of the car, then; you really think I don't care about people, do you? I know there are enough of us out there helping and I trust them enough to do their job. If you want to go, do it, I won't stop you. But I have to finish things with Cordell and Kate!"

Daniel's words died in his throat. It pained him to admit it but the detective was right. They had to stop Cordell and help his aunt find eternal rest.

"Well?"

"…Let's go," Daniel said avoiding McKinney's cold eyes. "Let's go."

0-0-0

The ruined police car stopped outside Sandoval's large warehouse on Pier 10. At first glance the place was deserted and only the light seeping from under the repository's large doors hinted at there being anyone inside. Both undead stayed still inside the vehicle for a moment, observing their surroundings until Cordell decided it was time to go in. He stepped out of the car and opened the trunk to reach for a Calico M970. He made sure it was loaded with a new 100 round magazine and handed it to Kate before he did the same with the second machine pistol he kept there. Armed with these deadly semi-automatic guns along with their regular revolvers and blades, Matt Cordell and Kate Sullivan approached the warehouse.

Inside Luis Sandoval watched the computer screens showing the two cops approaching. He was in the warehouse's office, far from the main entrance and using the surveillance cameras to spy on his would-be killer. He had held a small glimmer of hope that the man behind the deaths of the drug barons and his nephew was, as Salvatore believed, an imitator but now that he was seeing him again all doubts vanished: the same body built, the same slow premeditated pace, the same movements. This was Matt Cordell. Luis was not familiar with the woman but that was irrelevant, she would be destroyed too.

Sandoval picked up his radio and spoke. "Hide, wait until the bastard's in and then kill him."

The drug lord walked to the office's ample windows, which had been replaced with ballistic glass that same morning and watched. He could see everything from up there and would be safe as he witnessed the carnage to come. This was it, the final conflict between him and Cordell. Sandoval took in a deep breath and could not help but to remember the last time he and the cop met face to face.

He had been in a construction site at midnight, about to close an important deal when Cordell and his small army of cops came out of nowhere. It was later he understood it shouldn't be so surprising that the cops found them; Cordell had captured and tortured one of his men until he'd grinded the information out of him. Sandoval recalled the resulting shootout and how his men, outnumbered for once, either surrendered or got killed until he was the only one still shooting back at the police.

"And then I ran out of ammo…" The drug lord recalled.

Back then Sandoval had been strong, as any former boxer would. He knew how to fight and was good at it. He trusted his abilities the point he did surrender to the cops but, his pride hurt, had challenged Cordell to a one on one fight before they handcuffed him. The drug lord grinned as he remembered how he spat at the feet of his nemesis, and how pleased he felt when he accepted the challenge and asked his cop buddies to stay out of it.

Strange as it may sound Sandoval did not regret the ensuing fight, not even now. It had been glorious, a battle well worth remembering. He and Cordell went at each other like wild beasts, punching, kicking and throwing each other to the floor and then back up. Sandoval had ended with two broken ribs and a shattered nose before going down, but as he looked up at the bloodied face of his captor, he couldn't help but feel proud that he gave almost as bad as he received.

Of course, he and Salvatore arranged to have Cordell killed once the politicians they'd owned at the time sent him to Sing Sing, but that fight…

"It was splendid," Sandoval muttered, "magnificent too, a battle of real men."

But times and things were different now. He was too old to fight that way and Cordell was an undead freak. No, no more man to man, hand to hand fights between them. This time there would be nothing but bullets and fire.

The heavy doors where slammed open, revealing two lonely figures standing at the threshold. As he instructed his men remained hiding, waiting for the precise moment to attack. Cordell took a step in and his gaze went up, locating Sandoval immediately.

"I'm here you son of a bitch, I'm here," the drug lord said as if his enemy could hear him. "I am waiting, come and get me."

And the Maniac Cop did.

0-0-0

Once Cordell and Kate were five steps into the warehouse Sandoval's men came out of hiding and started shooting. Most of them had heard the tale of the zombie cop by now but numbers gave them courage and for those still afraid, cocaine had provided a dose of chemical courage which gave them the nerve to face what they feared was a supernatural foe. Still, bullets seemed to have no effect on their targets.

The undead cop stopped and, ignoring enemy fire, glanced around, assessing how many of them were around. He made a gesture and his partner prepared her gun. That was when Matt and Kate started shooting back. Both had counted and knew between the Asians, Mexicans, Blacks and Colombians, all armed to the teeth, they would be facing a force of about eighty strong but that did not worry them. Their submachine guns and revolvers gave them enough ammo to take them all down. With quick burst of fire Cordell shot at the men on the catwalks, killing several of them, some even falling to the ground level after being hit. Kate focused on the gunmen behind boxes or barrels, and she was having no trouble getting several kills every time she shot her gun.

A loud blast was heard then and Kate turned to see Cordell was stumbling backwards after getting hit. Looking ahead she saw a dozen men holding caliber .50 guns. They shot and she was hit on the side, the impact strong enough to make her stagger backwards, something that had never happened to her. Turning to the right revealed a big man holding a .500 S&W., which he shot again at once, hitting Cordell in the shoulder. That this gun was able to somewhat slow the undead cop down was not a surprise, since it could kill a bear in one or two shots, but that did not mean it could stop him. Cordell straightened, the unnatural force empowering him already repairing the damage the enormous bullets had caused and with quickness beyond human he shot the gunmen in front of him while Kate, also already healing, did the same to the man who had shot at them from the right.

This surprised the thugs enough to stop for a moment, too afraid to even consider shooting again at the unnatural apparitions in front of them. Cordell used this time to head for the stairs as he planned to reach the catwalks and from there the platform where the office on the other end of the warehouse was.

Outside a car screeched to a stop. McKinney could hear the incessant gunfire and the ruined police car to his right was all he needed to know Cordell and Kate were in there. He suddenly felt his stomach full of rocks and his throat dry as a desert. This was something he didn't want to do again. He glanced to his right, to the young cop who was preparing his .9 mm and realized that he couldn't escape it, he _had_ to do this. McKinney took in a deep breath and managed to calm down and recover the cold blood he was famous for. So this was how it would end, in a gunfight involving a drug lord, his men and Matt Cordell. _And Kate_ , he reminded himself. She was there too. Well, if it was the end, he would make sure he survived it, because there was no way in hell he wouldn't retire and go to Hawaii with Susan. He had earned that and he intended to collect. With newfound courage the veteran detective looked at his young partner.

"Call for backup," McKinney said.

While Daniel did as he was told Sean reached for a sports bag he kept between seats. He unzipped it to reveal a pair of bulletproof vests, two additional pistols and several .9 mm magazines.

"Backup will be here in five minutes," the young cop announced. "What's all that?"

"A little extra help," Sean said. "Grab a vest, another gun and all the ammo you can carry."

Not seeing any reason to disagree, Daniel obeyed.

Inside the warehouse the gunmen recovered their cold blood and started firing again, and again their bullets had little effect. Kate continued going forward, taking down as many gang members as she could. It was then that they got lucky. A bullet hit her submachine gun causing it to jam. She was hit in the back then; three men had come at her with steel pipes while the others focused on shooting at the hulking man already on the catwalks. Kate, however, did not fall. The onslaught was making it difficult for her to counterattack but it was only a matter of seconds before she got her hands on these men and…

In the end she didn't have to.

More gunfire was heard and the three men behind her fell, screaming in pain, writhing on the floor as they reached for their bleeding legs. Someone had shot them. She looked back and saw two men standing by the entrance of the warehouse: McKinney, her mentor and best friend when she had been alive and Daniel, her nephew who had been like a son to her. For an instant she stood there motionless, until the whimpers of the thugs at her feet brought her back to reality. They were annoying her so she reached for her gun and shot them all in the head. She looked back at Sean and Daniel and felt… _proud,_ her nephew had grown to be a cop, but he shouldn't be here and neither should McKinney. They would only get in Cordell's way and she could not allow that!

"Kate, you don't have to do this!" McKinney tried, somehow shouting above the deafening thunder of the roaring guns.

"Please, stop this! Daniel called. "Let us help you!"

She stared at them and contemplated killing them for a second but instead chose to let them live. They did not yet belong to the dead, she realized. Ignoring their presence was a better course of action and that was what Kate did. She turned her back to them and resumed shooting at the criminals around her. The gunfire then divided in three. Some men kept shooting at Cordell, others at Kate and the rest had decided to take down the two other cops who had just arrived before their backup showed up.

"She won't listen!" Daniel complained diving behind a large steel crate.

"I didn't think she would," McKinney said; he was also using the same crate to hide from enemy fire. "But I wanted to try."

"What now?"

"We find a way to stop Cordell!" Sean stated. "Without his influence there's a chance Kate may let us help her!"

"Easier said than done, McKinney!" Daniel complained as he shot back at the criminals, hitting four of them. "Right now I'm not sure this was such a good idea!"

"We just have to survive for five minutes!" Sean said, also returning fire, killing two men and wounding a third. "And capture Cordell before he leaves the warehouse, that way I can call a friend who will exorcise him!"

"You think that will help my aunt to pass on?"

"I hope it will," Sean said and resumed shooting.

Further inside the warehouse Kate stopped and discarded her gun. She had run out of bullets but that didn't matter as she had other means to dispose of the pests shooting at her and her partner. She reached for her kukri blade and continued her advance. When the thugs noticed she was out of ammo they increased their efforts but she still wouldn't go down. So focused they were on shooting her they didn't have time to react when she closed the distance between them. She swung her blade downwards chopping off a man's arm and then sideways, slashing another's stomach open. One of the gunmen picked up a plank and tried to hit Kate with it, but she blocked this with her forearm and stabbed the man in the sternum, piercing his right lung in the process.

At the same time Kate slashed her way through the warehouse and McKinney and Sean were busy focusing on survive the mess they had walked into, Cordell continued his advance towards the main office, shooting every thug on the catwalk until his submachine gun ran out of ammo. He paused for a moment when this happened, something four hit-men took advantage of to rush him, trying to shove him over the rail. This strategy proved ineffective, for Cordell simply pushed two of them back with such force they stumbled over the handrail to their deaths, he then grabbed the third by the jaw with both hands and twisted his head 180 degrees, the fourth one tried to escape but the Maniac Cop caught him by the shoulder, reached for his pistol and then shot him in the back of the head.

That done Cordell continued his advance, ignoring the bullets flying around him, shooting back when he had to or throwing those men who got to close away like if they were nothing until he finally stood outside Sandoval's office.

0-0-0

Luis Sandoval was impressed by what happened beyond his window. He could see most of the warehouse from it and whatever blind spots there were he could cover them with security cameras placed in strategic locations and had to admit this level of carnage was unsettling to even him. The last time he saw something of this magnitude was as a teen in his city during a shootout between the army and members of a seditious movement. His two bodyguards, who fidgeted in fear like nervous children, panicked at the idea of facing a cop that so far had proved to be an unkillable monster. Luis knew how they felt as he too was terrified; the only reason why he managed to stand his ground was that he still had an ace under his sleeve.

And by the time Cordell killed the last few men protecting his office, Sandoval knew he would have to play it.

The hulking man was standing outside his window now, staring back at him with accusing, hungry for vengeance eyes. The drug lord stared back with similar intensity. Now that he had Cordell in front of him he felt no fear, only hatred. This man, no this _creature_ had stolen his life. Because of him he had missed so many things, lost so much! It was only fitting that he destroyed this monster, it was the only acceptable outcome!

The undead cop raised his fist and punched at the reinforced glass, which cracked, but held. Cordell lowered his hand and remained still for a moment. He turned left then and placed both hands on the door, as if examining it. Satisfied, he pushed, tearing the door off its hinges with such ease it was as if it had been made of paper.

"Shoot him!" Sandoval ordered as he moved behind his desk. "Shoot him!"

"Fuck this!" the driver said and tried to run under Cordell's arms, but all he achieved was to fall in his hands and then a broken neck.

The undead cop reached for the gun his victim carried under his belt and emptied it on the other bodyguard, whose body fell backwards on Sandoval's desk. Not seeing any need to keep the pistol Cordell dropped it and started approaching the drug lord with slow, deliberate steps. It was obvious he was enjoying this apparent victory.

Sandoval, on the other hand, was not enjoying this at all. His last line of defense gone, all he had on his side was his secret ace and his fierce determination to survive. He had a gun, but he'd seen the good it made his men so he didn't even reach for it. Looking around for anything he could use, he spotted a fire axe abandoned inside a bucket in the corner behind him. The drug lord waited until Cordell tried to grab him, stepped back to dodge him and picked up the axe all in one swift motion.

"Let's see how you like this, you son of a bitch!" he screamed and swung the axe at his adversary.

Cordell did not move, taking the hit in the chest. The axe went through his jacket and sank in his flesh and bone but it did not hurt him. For a draug a wound like this was nothing, it was not even enough to make him bleed. Sandoval pulled back his axe and tried again this time aiming for the head but Cordell caught his enemy's left hand in his own and crushed it, breaking his fingers with a sickening crunch. The axe fell to the floor and the drug lord did his best to avoid screaming.

His grip as strong as a steel vice, Cordell dragged Sandoval to the door and then to the edge of the catwalk. With his free hand, the Maniac cop freed his long blade and showed it to the man who had orchestrated his murder in Sing Sing more than two decades before. It was time to end this! It was time to complete his revenge!

Below the shootout still raged. Kate had procured another gun to continue her rampage, while McKinney and Daniel had managed to advance almost to the first set of stairs which went up to the catwalk. Police sirens could be heard approaching and in less than two or three minutes the place would be filled with cops.

"You think you won?" Sandoval asked, his face a mask of contained pain. "I'm ready to die here if I take you with me, Cordell!"

The cop looked at his victim and put his blade away, intrigued by the words Sandoval had just thrown at him.

Made bold by the apparent doubt he sparked in his enemy, Sandoval searched inside his pocket with his good hand and pulled out a small device similar to a cell phone. Smiling, the drug lord pressed a red button on it and then stared at Cordell.

"This is a detonator. I had the whole place rigged with explosives this afternoon! We are all dying here!" the drug lord shouted. "We're going to hell together in less than a minute!"

The undead cop put his blade away and grabbed the detonator, crushing it in his hand.

"That won't stop the countdown, we will burn here! I lost twenty years because of you!" the drug lord spat, "twenty fucking years, _desgraciado_! I didn't deserve that!"

"No, you did not," Cordell said as he used his handcuffs to bind the struggling drug lord to the rail. His cold and raspy voice carried all the hate he felt with it. "All you deserve is death."

Saying nothing else, Matt Cordell turned his back and headed for the stairs, ignoring the curses Sandoval kept shouting at him. He had no need to stain his hands with Sandoval's blood. The drug lord would die in the explosion and that was much more satisfying than gutting him.

"Come back you bastard!" Sandoval shouted struggling in vain to get free. "Come back and die like a man!"

0-0-0

"What is he _doing_?" McKinney asked nobody in particular. He and Daniel had managed to get to the stairs and were ready to climb to the catwalks in order to go and confront Cordell and perhaps lure him somewhere they could capture him, but a quick glance in the office's direction revealed to him something he found strange beyond belief: Cordell had handcuffed Sandoval to the rail and was now descending the stairs to where an expecting Kate waited.

"Is he leaving him there so we can arrest him?" Daniel wondered once he followed McKinney's gaze and saw what Cordell had just done.

"That's not how he does things, I think…"

McKinney couldn't finish his sentence, for the office exploded with a loud blast. The detonation was followed by several around the warehouse. The construction caught fire amidst the scorching explosions, which trapped the surviving criminals in a burning inferno. The last thing Daniel saw before losing consciousness was his aunt Kate standing ablaze in the middle of a sea of fire, reaching for Matt Cordell's hand, who was also burning, as he tried to pull her out of the flames engulfing the already crumbling structure.

0-0-0

He felt as if he had tried to wrestle a bull, and he grunted in pain when he opened his eyes and tried to sit up. His vision took a few seconds to focus, and the humming in his ears made it difficult for him to understand whatever noises he was hearing. He was sore all over and wondered what had happened to make him feel that way.

"…easy…" he heard. "Take…. i…. sy… kid."

"Who?" Daniel strained and slowly turned left to see McKinney sitting on a crate. He looked terrible. His face and hair were covered with ash, the same as his clothes. Blood stains on his left sleeve hinted at a nasty wound under the fabric, and he overall seemed to be conscious only by sheer strength of will.

"They've got to take you to a hospital," Sean provided, "as soon as more help gets here."

It was then Daniel noticed a motorcycle ambulance parked near him and a paramedic talking on a radio next to it. He reached up and felt a bandage over his forehead. "What the hell happened?"

"Whole pace blew up," McKinney provided. "I was lucky I was still behind that steel crate, but you were stepping out when the blast got us, got yourself a nasty concussion there, kid. You better stay put until they look at it in a hospital."

The young police officer sucked in a deep breath and looked again at the spectacle in front of him. Sandoval's warehouse was no more. It had crumbled completely, part of it feel to the river below. There were many firefighters doing their best to put out the fire, working around the twisted pieces of metal, scorched wood and furniture that were the last remains of the warehouse. The idea that dozens of bodies were buried under the ruins entered his mind and he felt his stomach twist at the image the thought brought with it.

"Help me up, McKinney," Daniel said. "I need to look closer."

Sean groaned as he got up from his seat and offered his hand to the young Sullivan. "Kids like you should be able to get up without forcing an old man to help them."

"Bite me," Daniel smiled or tried to, at the grinning detective. His head was beating like a drum, but he felt a little better standing up than on his back. He walked to what once was a large drug distribution center and stood there, staring at the smoking ruins.

"Sandoval is dead," McKinney said. "There's no way he survived it."

"He's the one Cordell wanted," the young man stated. "He's finally completed his revenge."

"I think so, yes."

"Do you think… now that he's killed Sandoval, that he'll find rest?"

McKinney wiped the ashes off his face and then said. "Maybe, with Cordell is hard to say."

"And you believe my aunt…?"

"I believe she wanted to help him," Sean offered. "Perhaps she's paid him back and can finally rest in peace."

Daniel didn't answer; he instead fished inside his pockets until he found what he was looking for: his aunt's police graduation ring. He held it in his fist for a moment and then prepared to throw it at the river beyond the smoking ruins but McKinney's hand on his wrist stopped him.

"Keep it," he said. "I'm sure she would want that."

"You think so?"

Sean nodded. "I think so."

Daniel opened his fist and looked at the shiny ring again before returning it to his pocket, making a silent vow to make his aunt proud of him.

"Now, if you excuse me, I need to call my wife," McKinney stated and just then, a siren announced their ambulance had arrived, much to his relief. "Let's go, junior. We really need to get patched up."

0-0-0

Hours later…

Steven Howard picked up a singed stool, looked it over under the light of his flashlight and then tossed it back to the floor. He'd been assigned to watch over the ruined warehouse until the guys from forensics arrived and he suspected they wouldn't show up until the following day but that was alright, he was the curious kind and entertained himself going through the wreckage seeing if he could find something interesting to keep as a souvenir. He knew there were corpses under the debris but he didn't believe in ghosts so that did little to upset him. He walked all the way to where a section of the warehouse crumbled into the water and looked down. Most of it had sunk like a rock and he imagined divers would be needed to check if any bodies had gone under, not that he believed any would be found. His curiosity satisfied and having found nothing he liked Steven returned to his police car, where boredom ensured he fell asleep shortly after.

Outside, something stirred under the ruins. A heavy steel platform moved and was turned to the side as a male figure rose from under it. His body was scorched black, but his eyes shone with unnatural life. A strange process was healing his wounds, and new muscle started growing back while he moved around the debris, lifting rubble as if looking for something. Then he noticed movement to his left; a catwalk, twisted and half melted was shaking, signaling someone was under it. He walked there and pushed the steel piece out of the way, removing the blackened planks to help the one trapped below them escape. His efforts were rewarded when she crawled out of the wreckage. She was as burned as he was and was also already healing.

The scorched woman looked up and saw his hand offering her help standing up.

"Matt," she said holding the hand he extended.

"Kate," he replied as he gently pulled her up.

0-0-0

Daniel, who carried three boxes of beer knocked the door with his heel and waited. Almost immediately, detective Josh opened the door, the sound of music and laughter filling the air as he did so. It had been a week since the warehouse fire, and he really needed something like this.

"You're late, kid," Josh accused with a playful smirk. "McKinney's going to kick your ass."

"He'll forgive me when he sees I found the brand he wanted," Daniel shot back. "It was not easy, so I really hope this beer tastes as good as he promised!"

"Wait until you taste them with some salt and lemon, junior, it'll blow you away!" McKinney promised; he'd walked to the door to welcome the new guest and was gladly surprised to see the beer was finally there. "C'mon in, don't keep the others waiting!"

With the help of Sean and Josh who each helped with a box, Daniel made his way to the kitchen and then to McKinney's backyard, where Martha Dulany and other officers from the precinct were chatting in small groups. Susan, Sean's wife, was having a great time talking with the wives of other cops. As Daniel sat on a bamboo chair he noticed the detail he would remember for years when he recalled this party: a white banner with blue and green letters that read: " _You did it, McKinney!_ " hanging from the fence. Feeling good about this celebration, Daniel relaxed and decided it was time to have some much deserved fun. Much to his surprise he ended up enjoying the party far more than what he expected.

It was almost two in the morning by the time the party ended. Susan was already upstairs and only Daniel, Josh and McKinney remained in the backyard. Everybody else had left at least half an hour before, so the three of them were now sitting near the grill, drinking one last beer before saying goodbye.

"I'll have to throw a party as good as this next year when it's my turn to retire," Josh said. "You better tell me where you bought the meat, Sean, It was delicious!"

"Sure, I'll send you the address of Susan's favorite butcher shop," McKinney promised.

"I second that," Daniel said. "The steak was awesome."

Silence, then a few minutes later, Daniel spoke again. "I'm taking good care of it, Sean."

"Of what?" the detective asked.

"You know… that thing you left me?"

"Oh, the binder," McKinney smiled. "You can throw it away. Now that he's gone there's no need to keep watch."

"Yeah, he's right," Josh agreed. "Don't waste your time on it."

"I think I'll keep it," Daniel said. "Just for a couple of years in case that, well, you know…"

"Yeah, we know," McKinney sighed. "Just don't let it become the only thing you do, ok? Find a girl, get married, the whole shebang."

"I do have someone, actually," Daniel crowed. "Nice girl, she works at a bakery. It's not that serious yet, though."

"Well, bring her over next time," Sea invited.

"I will," Daniel promised. "McKinney?"

"Yeah?"

"Have a nice trip," the younger man said. "Enjoy Hawaii."

"He's got that right, pal," Josh rejoined. "You've earned it."

"I'm sure we'll enjoy it," Sean said, his eyes focused on the Hawaii fliers scattered on the grass, as he had brought them to show his friends the hotel he would be staying at. "Oh yes, I'm sure."

"Let's toast to that," Josh offered.

"To Hawaii!" Daniel said.

"To Hawaii!" McKinney agreed.

With a laugh and feeling in a very good mood, the three friends touched their beers together with a soft _clink!_ and drank in McKinney's honor.

Sean McKinney's smile widened, thinking that he'd made it at last. No more criminals. No more nights out chasing the scum of society and best of it all, no more Matt Cordell.

He was honestly looking forward to it.

END.

0-0-0

.

..

…

 _Epilogue._

Salvatore's feet echoed in the hallways of his mansion. He had just returned to the city after spending almost two weeks in Italy, waiting for things to calm down before coming back. News of Sandoval's death forced him to come back earlier than he wanted to, but he could not complain, since the current situation was beneficial for him.

"With Sandoval and the three barons gone," He said to Marco, his right hand man as they walked towards the dining room, "It's my chance to be the Kingpin of New York. We are the strongest now, all I have to do is play my cards right and make the right alliances. Have you called what's left of the other four gangs? I want to see if they will do business with us or not."

"They'll be here tonight," the aide informed. "All of them agreed to your terms."

"Good," Salvatore nodded as they reached their destination. "I'll have breakfast alone, Marco, I need to think. Can you bring me the Newspaper from the studio? I want to finish reading something."

Marco nodded and went back down the hall. Alone at last, Salvatore entered the dining room and closed the door behind him. He liked to eat by himself when possible, it allowed him to think in ways he couldn't while having people around him and also, food just tasted better to him that way. He sat and smelled his cappuccino, grabbed a croissant and took a bite, grinning in pleasure at the sweet taste of the pastry. He still had eggs and ham to go for, but his coffee and croissant were always first.

The door leading to the kitchen opened and Salvatore looked up to see who it was. He hoped it would be his cook with something new he wanted him to try, but his anticipation turned to fear when instead of his chef he saw a tall, scarred man in a police uniform. Salvatore's fear turned to panic when the intruder pulled out a long, sharp blade and approached him with slow and steady steps. Understanding dead was upon him the mobster scrambled to his feet and turned to rush for the door.

Only he couldn't. Standing in front of the only exit left was a female cop. Her face was badly burnt from the nose down but her eyes made it clear she would not let him get away.

By the time Marco returned with the newspaper his boss had requested, all he found in the dining room was a picture of gore that would haunt him for the rest of his life.


End file.
